Beyond Me
by xsourwolfy
Summary: Dean and Sam are hunting werewolves but they come across packs which are already dead before they arrived. This leads them to visit their next destination: Beacon Hills. With family in town, (and werewolves they're certain), Dean and Sam are on the hunt. Meanwhile, Derek Hale works on training his pack members, fearing they may be the next targets. [AU. Dean/Derek.]
1. Chapter 1

As the Impala roared down the street, Dean shot Sam a curious look, brow crinkling in the other male's direction. "Are we sure, though?"

Sam was busy going over the map in which he had plotted down all the recent werewolf sightings – and killings.

"Pretty positive, Dean." Sam answered, looking over to his brother.

"Then I guess we need to pay our distant family a visit." Dean responded, his eyes falling back on the dirt road. He estimated that it would take half the day to get to Beacon Hills. "We're in no rush, right?"

"No rush," Sam lied but kept a straight face. If the werewolf packs were dying off, if their suspicions were correct, two more packs were in the crosshairs of danger until they arrived at their destination.

* * *

With another blow to the plywood, it quickly splintered before breaking right in half. Grasping up another piece of wood, Derek held the target out to Isaac. Drops of sweat had collected against his neck, his body pumping with adrenaline.

"In one hit. Come on," Derek instructed.

Isaac tapped into his werewolf abilities, his eyes glowing a golden yellow for a brief moment. With one swift swing, his fist collided with the wood and split it right in half, just as Derek had wanted.

"Good." Derek tossed the last of the wood aside. Training his pack was something he found pride in, even though they still had a lot to learn.

Isaac panted lightly, sweat dripping down his face, his shirt clinging to his chest from the pool of sweat beneath. Derek's training wasn't something taken lightly and it wasn't easy.

"I think I'm done for the night."

Derek nodded. "Boyd? Erica? You wanna go?"

The blonde sighed slightly, rising from the ground where she lay. "Do we have to? I'd rather watch." She complained.

"Look, this is serious. There are packs being killed on a nightly basis out there. We don't know who or what is doing this. We need to be on guard at all times." The older male explained. There was no way he'd allow someone or something to kill off his pack members. However, they needed to train harder than they ever had before.

Boyd rose from the ground where he'd been sitting. He respected his alpha and his firm words. "I'll go."

"From the top." Derek told him.

Without another moment to spare, Boyd charged at Derek. It was easy for Derek to halt him in his tracks and toss him aside, he'd seen the same thing from Boyd time and time again.

"Change it up. Surprise me." The alpha stated.

Boyd rose from the ground once more, shaking off the dust that had collected on his clothes from the impact of the ground. He took a few steps backwards, hiding himself in the run down subway. Crouching towards the ground, he took a spot in the dank corner, knowing Derek would come looking for him.

Derek waited a few moments and with no hesitation, he entered the old subway train. "I can hear your heartbeat." He informed the other male, knowing one of his techniques he was trying to train the wolves to do was to utilize calm breathing to slow their heart rate.

Boyd took a few silent breaths, focusing on his hearts rhythm. In a flash, he lunged at Derek but he was again, shoved aside and thrown out of the subway train into the ground once more.

"Good, but I could still see it coming." His instincts were far more honed than his pack members. Then again, Derek had years of practice and self-discipline.

"Your turn, Erica." Boyd insisted.


	2. Chapter 2

Cresting on the horizon, the sun spilled rays across all of Beacon Hills, emitting a bright light through the windshield of the Impala. Dean made a mental note of seeing another day, something not every hunter was lucky enough to do. Sam had fallen fast asleep, leaving Dean in his thoughts for the last four hours. Carefully, he shook his brother by the shoulder with a firm hand.

"We're almost there, Sammy."

Peeling his eyes open, Sam stretched out on the seat before crossing his arms loosely. Sleep clung to his eyelids, making it difficult for him to keep them open. "Alright, alright."

"Morning to you too, sunshine." Dean teased, a grin filling his face. "We got business to attend to. You should be happy about that."

"I am. We haven't had work in a while." Sam responded, yawning slowly.

"Hey, I should be the tired one. I drove all night while your ass slept through half of the ride."

"Next time you can ride shotgun then." Sam insisted. He didn't like when Dean was so hesitant to let someone else drive Baby.

"I'll catch some shut eye for an hour or two before we head out." The older brother steered the car down the smaller street, exiting the main road. Luxurious homes filled their view, something Dean always found somewhat breathtaking since he and Sam were used to hoping from motel room to motel room during most cases.

"How long has it been?" Sam wondered, peering out the window at all the homes passing by.

Dean shrugged. "Six? Seven years, maybe?" Had time really passed that quickly?

Once the Impala came to a halt, Dean shut off the engine and withdrew the keys from the ignition. He tucked them away in his jeans pocket before propping open the door and climbing out of it.

"Is it bad that we've come unannounced?" Sam seemed worried.

Shaking his head marginally, Dean gave his brother a look. "Aunt Natalie was always fond of us. Or, well, you, Sam." Dean insisted.

"If you say so."

Climbing up the driveway, both brothers took in their surroundings, memories of a younger life flashing before their eyes. Dean could remember the pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving, the fresh scent of the pine tree at Christmas. While they were still considered distant relatives – John was a second cousin to Natalie, at that – Natalie and her husband always treated them well. However, she and her husband had split a few years back, at least, that's what the brothers remembered hearing from their father.

Once they came upon the front door, Dean cleared his throat, prodding Sam with his jade hues towards the door.

"Care to do the honors?"

Almost hesitantly at first, Sam reached out and gave an index finger to the doorbell, signaling their arrival. He inhaled slowly, wondering if it would have been better to just stay low and spend their nights at a motel; the usual way of things.

"I got it!" A voice could be heard inside the home, nearing the doorway.

Within seconds, the front door was being sprung open to reveal a shorter, daintier figure. Her strawberry blonde hair was tied into a ponytail, her emerald hues falling upon the brothers before her expression changed to that of surprise.

"Lydia." Sam greeted. Dean gave a nod and a wave of his hand, offering a simple smile at the female.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you two to be in town. This is.. interesting, to say the least." Lydia told them, opening the door wider before motioning for them to come in.

"No hello?" Dean questioned.

"Hi, Dean. Sam," Lydia returned their greetings before motioning towards the next room. "Let me just go grab my mom." And with a scurry, she disappeared into the home.

It didn't take long for Natalie to emerge; a large, warm smile filled her face before she outstretched her arms towards Sam and Dean. "Sam! Dean! What a surprise!" She exclaimed, exuberantly.

Each of the men received her embrace for a short period of time before they retracted themselves from her hold. "Sorry we didn't exactly call." Dean apologized, knowing it was sudden.

"No, no. Don't worry about it. I can't believe you're here." Natalie waved a hand to show she wasn't the slightest upset by their appearance.

Nodding his head, the younger brother's face did the usual puppy dog look in Natalie's direction. "We hope it wouldn't be a bother but we'd like to ask if it was alright if we stayed with you for a few days? Just while we gather our bearings in town. We'll be out of your hair in no time."

"Oh, Sam. You boys are always welcome in this home. Stay as long as you need." Her features changed, her face draping curiosity over it. "What brings you two to Beacon Hills, exactly?"

Dean glanced at Sam, knowing they didn't exactly solidify a cover story before they arrived. "Um, we're just finishing up some of our father's old work."

"You boys are still running his errands?"

"You know dad. He left quite the trail." Sam let out a nervous chuckle. Despite his father passing a couple of years ago, Dean and Sam still found work within his journal; new places or old places in which the supernatural still ran rampant. Beacon Hills was one of those places marked on the map.

"Come on in. Let me grab you boys some lemonade." Natalie insisted.

* * *

"So, what's the plan?" Sam asked Dean in a quiet voice as they made their way up the staircase of the Martin home. Both toted bags over their shoulders, clothes tucked away - and a necessary gun or two as a precaution.

Dean tilted his head towards the two guest rooms. Once they came upon one, he lugged his bag inside and plopped it on the floor. "We go out after dinner and we find ourselves a motel for the rest of our.. tools." He cleared his throat. "Then we start the leg work. Ask the locals what kind of 'animal attacks' have they seen? Which were recent? How recent? When we find that out, that's when we do the recon work and start snuffing the bastards out."

"And the werewolves that were already killed?" Sam questioned.

"By the injuries and the scenes, I'd say it was another pack. Wouldn't you?"

"But, why would they kill their own kind?"

"Sammy, you ask a lot of questions, alright? We'll figure it out." Dean let out a long sigh before he laid back onto the bed. "Just give me two hours of beauty sleep and then we'll talk. I promise."

With that, Sam took his exit from the room and found the vacant room next door.

* * *

"Tonight, we train in the woods." Derek instructed his pack, giving each member a stern look. "No complaints." Looking to Isaac, he nodded his head. "You'll search for scents. Boyd, you're in charge of keeping a lookout post. Erica and I will search for other clues which might arise." He wanted to crack down on the dying wolves and their mysterious deaths.

He couldn't do it alone. No. Not only that, but he needed his pack to remain on edge and to see the severity of the issue first hand. "Eight o'clock. Sharp. We meet at the loft." And without another word, he dismissed the younger wolves.

While he didn't mind keeping the three in check and keeping them safe, Derek Hale was no superhero and he needed a break from the stress. He ran an idle hand through his hair before scratching the back of his neck. Turning away from the entry, he leapt and grabbed hold of a wooden panel on the wall. Derek began doing pull ups; exercise was something that soothed him.

It didn't take long for his peace to be invaded. He could sense another's presence before they even made themselves known.

"I thought I told you to leave."

Erica dragged in Stiles by the collar before releasing him.

Derek's ears caught the second heartbeat, more erratic than the first; Stiles had information.

"Spill it, Stiles."

Straightening out his flannel shirt, he eyed Erica almost annoyed before his attention turned to Derek's back. "There's been another attack. I—I heard it on the radio this morning. I got here as quickly as I could." He spoke rapidly, indicating his nervousness while his fingers played with the hem of his shirt mindlessly, something he did when he became anxious.

Derek spun to face the pair. "Where?" His voice full of demand yet concern.


	3. Chapter 3

Walking up to the Sheriff's station, Dean and Sam now dawned the suits they tended to wear when they were investigating on a job. A few of the local deputies gave them both greetings, simple nods of their heads as a gesture of respect.

"Since when did the big guys come into town?" Dean overheard one of the men ask another. The second male shrugged, confused.

Making their way into the building and to the front desk, Dean gave the receptionist a cheesy grin. "Listen, sweetheart, can we talk to the Sheriff around these parts?"

The woman smiled warmly at Dean and off she went to go retrieve the Sheriff.

"How do you do that so easily?" Sam shook his head at his brother.

Dean smiled wider. "It's the suit."

"Sure."

It didn't take long for Noah Stilinski to appear and with a slight nod of his head, he greeted the brothers. "What can I do for you?"

Dean and Sam both fished out their 'badges' from within their pockets before flinging them open briefly, waving them gently before closing them once more. "We're Agent Angus and Agent Young. We've heard about the animal attacks in Beacon Hills." Dean explained.

The Sheriff looked perplexed. "Who sends the FBI for an animal attack?"

"With all due respect, sir, we've noticed a pattern of attacks in Beacon Hills. We're here to make sure no one else gets hurt." Sam further explained.

Noah seemed hesitant.

Dean tried to read his badge. "Uh.. Sheriff Stil-in- Stil-in—"

"Stilinski." Noah corrected.

"Right, right. Sheriff Stilinski. We just want to do our jobs as quickly and as efficiently as possible without getting in anyone's way." Dean finished, hoping that would be enough to seal the deal so they could gather their information and move on.

"Alright. Come back with me." Noah finally caved after peering at both men cautiously.

* * *

It didn't take long for the evening to fall upon Beacon Hills and even though Derek told his pack eight o'clock, they were going at six to the location Stiles had given them. Hopefully, the area would be sanctioned off and the patrolling officers would be on leave for dinner. As he and his pack climbed further into the woods, Derek looked at the map which Stiles had given to him.

"I hope you're right about this." Derek warned Stiles.

"As right as I always am." Stiles shot back.

The alpha just rolled his eyes before the scent of fresh blood wafted through the air and hit his nose. Obviously the scent had reached the rest of the pack as their expressions changed, indicating it was something foul. "We're here." Derek told them, handing back the map to the brunette.

Hurrying up the slope of the hill, Derek ripped right through the police tape and ushered his pack members crossed the line, too. As he took in the scene of strewn bodies on the ground, his lips pressed into a tight line; a pang of disappointment ate away at his sanity momentarily. The gashes, the wounds, the way their bodies were torn – everything pointed to something Derek feared the most.

"…Werewolves." He concluded, just by the carnage. He hadn't need to learn anything more.

"Werewolves?" Isaac asked. "What gives you that conclusion?"

Derek paced over towards one of the bodies to get a closer examination. He knelt down towards the earth, eyes flicking up and down the dead woman. "The way she's ripped apart. There's no way a hunter could have done this. You'd find arrows or maybe some sort of bullet. Maybe – Maybe a burnt body and some broken Molotov's." He made note of each gash in the woman's body.

"I'm going to be sick." Stiles stated, turning away before darting back down the hill. Even the smell of the dead bodies was enough to wig him out.

 _Zoom! Swish! Zoom!_

The smell of wolfsbane was heavy in the air as arrows pierced the nearby trees. Derek's emerald hues darted in every direction before he realized what was going on. This was an ambush, they were being tracked. **Hunters.**

"Run!" Derek shouted, looking towards his pack members. He waited for them all to run back down the slope, narrowly missing two arrows which were shot in his direction. A third impaled itself deep within his leg. He roared out in agony, his canines protruding from where they usually hid. Wasting no more precious time, Derek followed his pack down the slope, scurrying to Stiles' Jeep.

" **Go!** Go!" He insisted, waiting for Stiles to ignite the engine.

* * *

As the smell of wolfsbane hit the air, Dean gave Sam a perplexed look. Who the hell else was out in the woods? Another moment passed and a roar shook the trees. They were closing in on the werewolves, he was sure of it. Quickly, he tilted his head to the right and took off running, Sam in pursuit. He checked his blind spots as he ran, readying his handgun at each spot. As they came to a clearing he heard a twig snap right behind himself. Spinning around, he came face-to-face with an arrow.

A middle-aged man wielded a bow, his aim directly at Dean; his face was slightly worn, scruffy facial hair littering and forming a small beard on the man. Dean's handgun was at the ready, aimed right in the man's face just the same. His breathing remained steady, as did the man's. Jade hues pierced cerulean orbs and the look on the man's face was just as fierce as his was.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean questioned, his voice stern, confident.

"Who the hell are _you_?" The unknown man asked in response.


	4. Chapter 4

As Stiles' Jeep bounced around the dirt road, Derek winced at each bump. The arrow in his leg seemed to be releasing more wolfsbane into his veins with each movement. There was no getting around it, he just had to deal with it.

"Shirt _. Please_." Derek prompted Isaac. "Now!" He demanded.

Isaac quickly discarded his shirt and handed it to Derek. Wrapping it around his hand, Derek used it as a barrier so he wouldn't burn his hand with wolfsbane as he tried yanking out the arrow. Tugging on it caused him to groan, his head leaning backwards in pain against the seat of the vehicle. Perspiration began to collect on his forehead, despite the chill of the night. A burning sensation ripped through his flesh as he finally managed to dislodge the arrow from his leg.

Derek quickly tossed it to the side and into the dirt before Stiles' Jeep veered off onto the road. "Damn it," He cursed under his breath, panting heavily. The wound wouldn't heal as quickly as they usually did. The hunters _knew_ that.

"Take us to the loft," Derek instructed Stiles.

* * *

"I'm not budging until you give me some kind of information." Dean's voice was almost a warning. " _Who_ are you and why do you have this damn thing pointed in my face?"

Sam stood behind his brother, his handgun also at the ready. By the looks of things, this guy was a hunter and the other two men standing behind him, also wielding weapons, were most likely his pals. "Dean, I think they're just like us."

The middle-aged man didn't falter in his stance. His fingers still firmly held the arrow in a drawn position, ready to release at any given second. "Maybe you should listen to your friend."

"Don't interject, Sam. Don't say anything." Dean added after a brief pause. He was wary of these guys, even if they were hunters.

With his finger on the trigger, Dean shook his head. "Wolfsbane." The brunette told the other male. "You must be hunting werewolves, too." He paused. "That doesn't make you and me the same though, does it? What makes me sure you won't just kill me now?"

The middle-aged man laughed. Obviously this guy wasn't going to give. Finally, he lowered his weapon, allowing the arrow slack from the bow. "You'd already be dead." The man told Dean, a smug grin on his face.

Seeing the man lower his weapon caused Dean to follow and he finally lowered the gun, Sam doing the same. "You did get the jump on me." Dean admitted.

"I can only assume that you're hunters." The man looked back at his two friends. "You recognized wolfsbane right away. So, I guess you already knew about our town's little secret." He extended a hand. "The name's Chris. Chris Argent."

Emerald hues fell down to Chris' extended hand and Dean was a little apprehensive to accept the gesture at first. Cautiously, he extended his own hand and shook Chris'. "Dean Winchester. This is Sam." He motioned towards his younger brother.

"Winchester?" Chris repeated. "That name's awfully familiar around these parts of the woods." He chuckled. "You happen to know a John?"

"That's our father." Sam stated.

"Oh." Chris was stunned. "Now I feel awfully bad about pointing this arrow in your face." Turning around, Chris headed down the slope, motioning for the men to follow. "C'mon. I'll catch you up to speed on the wolves around Beacon Hills."

Dean glanced at Sam, shooting him a confused look. What had just happened?

* * *

Once at the loft, Isaac and Boyd helped Derek walk into the building, each wolf had one of Derek's arms draped around their shoulders. "The couch." Derek motioned his head towards the sofa. At his request, the two brought him over to the piece of furniture and placed him down gently.

More sweat had collected on his face and the burning sensation from earlier hadn't ceased, despite the arrow having been dislodged from his leg. Derek's eyelids felt heavy, thicker than usual and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

"He's burning up." Erica told the others as she placed a hand on Derek's forehead. "What do we do? He's not healing, either." She pointed out, worry painted on her face.

Stiles put a hand over his mouth before he dragged it down his chin. He began to pace. "We take him to the hospital."

"They can't help me there." Derek responded. "Not with this."

"Deaton. Deaton. We'll go to Deaton." Stiles wanted to feel useful. He didn't want to see Derek in agony.

Writhing on the sofa, Derek suddenly groaned out in pain, unable to focus on his surroundings. Everything began to blur and suddenly, he was no longer in the loft but rather in his old home before the fire had brought it to shambles.

Faint laughter could be heard and confusion seeped into his bones. "Mom? Dad?" He neared the kitchen before peeking in. Could they really be alive? Were they real? He watched as his father gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and as he entered the kitchen, the lights bathed him with warmth upon his skin, allowing the moment to _be_ real. No, he had to be hallucinating. That was when Cora walked by and he reached out to touch her.

She spun to face him. "Derek?"

"Cora.." He breathed out but was taken aback when Laura also walked by. "Laura." Puzzled, his brow crinkled. "But you're both.. you're.." Derek trailed off.

A sudden roar of pain shocked him back to reality and his eyes snapped open widely. "Ahh!" Erica had placed a warm towel upon his head, only for the material to cause more agony to the alpha.

She quickly withdrew the item and gasped in horror. "Derek, stay with us." She almost begged.

Stiles wasted no time and fished out his cellphone from within his jeans. Instantly, he speed dialed Scott. "You need to get to the loft. **Quick.** " Abrupt in his words, Derek was in real trouble and time was ticking.

* * *

"So, you knew our dad, how?" Dean wondered before taking the glass of whiskey to his lips. He sat on a stool at the bar next to Sam and next to Chris.

"John was amazing." Chris relished in the memories of the man. "He was smart and witty. He had these thought out plans for each town he would travel to and each monster he was hunting. He mapped them all out, used fake identities to reach the townspeople." Chris explained. "I didn't even know his real name until the second or third time I met him."

Sam took a swig of his beer as he listened. _Second or third time?_ His father had never mentioned Chris Argent.

Chris shook his head gently before he took a sip of his beer, too. "We met very similarly to how you and I just crossed paths." Mr. Argent began. "He was hunting a skin walker at the same time I was. The same exact skin walker. Once we found the creature, we also found each other. We took that thing out together." Chris paused. "Then we found out there were more of the damn things and they nearly killed us." He laughed lightly.

Dean gave Sam a look before he grinned, a tiny curve of his lip became lopsided. "So, you nearly killed each other, too?"

"Yup." Chris answered.

"Sounds.. scary."

"It was." Chris took another drink of his beer. "But, you know, I never realized he was related to Natalie. Not until word got around that he.." The male trailed off.

Dean lowered his head slightly, as did Sam.

"Yeah, we're not exactly close relatives." Sam explained.

"So, are you boys following in his footsteps?"

"The family business." Dean clarified. "He left us this journal and we're just following it religiously. You know, helping people out and finding weird cases. Things like that."

"It's good to hear you're keeping the memory of your pop alive." Chris looked over at the two brothers. "And it's nice to finally meet you, too." Clearing his throat, he sighed. "I'll have to introduce you to the whole family. What do you guys think? We work on this together?"

Dean was reluctant to share a case with another group of hunters. As far as he saw it, him and Sam were always meant to fly solo together; you never knew when someone would betray you or screw you. He needed a moment to ponder it over. However, if his father could trust Chris, maybe they could too.

"Sam and I usually do our own thing but.. we'll make an exception this one time." Dean agreed.

"Good. We can talk strategy and information tomorrow morning. Here, I'll give you my address." Chris took out a pen and jotted down the information on a napkin.

"See you then." Dean replied. Without another word, the hunters vacated their stools and left the two brothers in the bar.

"Well… that took an unexpected turn." Sam announced.


	5. Chapter 5

Scott hurried into the loft, leaping up the stairs with all the strength in his legs. He'd scurried over as quickly as possible once Stiles had called him. The alpha male worried for the other alpha and his pack. If Derek was injured, then they were vulnerable without him. With the recent werewolf killings, Scott could only imagine that they'd be the next target without their leader.

Opening the door, he came inside, Jackson following suit.

Stiles glanced over his shoulder. "Finally." He commented, worry splashed across his face. Glancing past Scott, he noticed Jackson. "Why'd you bring him along?" He quickly questioned.

"Screw you, Stilinski." Jackson harshly bit. "This affects us all." The blonde reminded the brunette with a glare.

Stiles simply glared back, his mouth slightly agape. "Sure it does."

"Not now, okay?" Scott told his best friend. He knew that Stiles never saw eye-to-eye with Jackson, nor did he agree with Scott's idea to accept Jackson into his pack. "What happened?" Scott paced over to the sofa, looking down at Derek.

"Hunters." Boyd simply put it out there.

"We were—we were looking for clues in the woods. Clues to figure out what was going on with the killings. They-they ambushed us." Erica stammered.

Scott sniffed the air, getting the aroma of wolfsbane, his eyes glowed a crimson shade momentarily. He moved closer to examine the wound. That's when Derek shot up from the sofa, claws extended and eyes ablaze with rage. He was delirious from the concoction pulsing through his being.

Scott quickly stepped backwards as Derek roared in outrage. He flipped off the sofa and Scott took a defensive stance. "Everyone, we have to get him under control."

Derek's eyes darted from Scott to Jackson and back to each member of his own pack, even to Stiles. He saw Peter, he saw Chris Argent, he saw Kate, enemies circled all around him. Of course, he didn't know they were hallucinations, merely figments of his mind. Lunging for Stiles, his teeth were bared and ready to strike. That's when Scott looked on with horror but Jackson jumped in to receive the blow. Derek was atop the other werewolf in an instant, snapping and clawing.

Jackson cried out in agony as Derek's claws ripped through his clothes and right into his chest and abdomen. Scott charged Derek, knocking him off his pack member and onto the floor. He pinned him down while Derek snarled wildly and fought to regain control. The younger alpha shot his head forward, head-butting Derek with all his might. The older alpha was then knocked out cold.

"This is no ordinary wolfsbane." Scott acknowledged, looking back to Isaac and Boyd. "This is potent."

Stiles glanced down at Jackson, watching as his skin began the healing process. "Are you alright?"

"Like you care." Jackson shot back, snark in his tone.

"C'mon. Let's take him to Deaton." Scott urged.

* * *

Sam hunched over the small desk provided in Dean's guest room. Dean laid atop the bed, letting out a long drawn out sigh.

"This just keeps getting weirder and weirder." Sam told his brother.

"Why do you say that?" Dean questioned.

"All these 'cougar attacks' have gone up at least fifty percent in the last two years." He was examining the information that Noah Stilinski had given to them. "Not only that but, there was an actual cougar at the kids prom. In the parking lot." Sam also sighed. "The attacks were a lot less frequent when dad was still around. He must've kept things in check whenever he'd come down here."

"Sounds like dad." Dean replied.

"But, the thing I don't understand is, if there's multiple packs residing in Beacon Hills, how are the citizens so dense? Wouldn't they find out about it?"

"Werewolves are sneaky. They know how to hide out once a month. Concealing their identities shouldn't be that difficult." Dean explained, tossing a football up in the air before catching it again. "It's not like they're bloodsuckers. The bastards only have to worry about shifting once a month. The rest of the time, they're just like you and me: normal."

A small knock was at the doorframe and that's when Sam looked over to notice Lydia.

"I just figured I'd check in with you two. You know, since I haven't seen you since I was about twelve-thirteen years old." She glanced at the two of them.

Sam slowly closed the file he had been reading. "Sure. No problem."

Dean sat up in the bed. "What do you want to know?"

"Why you guys never came to my graduation, for one." Lydia remarked, almost disappointed in her tone. "You know you're the only family members I actually like being around." She reminded the brothers.

"Sorry, kiddo." Dean apologized. "Things got crazy at home and then our dad passed away and we've been busy since." He was half honest with her.

"I see." Lydia returned. "Did you ever really miss it here, though?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "We definitely missed your mom's pumpkin pie." He teased, the three of them giving a small laugh, filling the quiet of the room.

"What are you working on?" Despite Sam closing the file, Lydia had caught a glimpse of it. "If you don't mind me asking." She added after a beat.

Sam looked over to Dean and then back at the file. "Oh, um, just some stuff our dad left behind at the Sheriff's office. Mostly property of his. Legal stuff."

"You need any help?" Lydia wondered.

"No, I'm good."

"Sam was studying to be a lawyer." Dean reminded the redhead.

"Oh, right."

"What are you doing with college?" Dean changed the subject casually.

"Medicine. I like the complexity of it." She grinned gently towards Dean.

Nodding his head, Dean leaned back on the bed. "Cool." Was all he simply said.

"Well, goodnight." Lydia told the brothers.

"Goodnight." They both said in unison.

"We really need a motel." Sam pointed out.

"Yup."


	6. Chapter 6

Driving up to the residence, Dean parked on the street. "Another nice home." Dean pointed out, looking towards Sam. "I'm starting to think everyone's rich in this place." He climbed out of the vehicle and shut the door swiftly.

Sam followed. "Nice digs, though."

"Very nice." Dean agreed.

Walking up to the door, Dean rang the doorbell. A few moments passed before Chris Argent appeared and greeted them.

"Morning, boys. Come on in." He greeted.

"Mornin'." Dean returned and Sam gave a grin to the older man.

They both waltzed into the place, Dean's eyes darting all around, taking in the appearance of it all. He let out a low whistle, admiring the home. "Nice."

A woman with short red hair came to stand next to Chris. Chris glanced at his wife and then back at the Winchester's. "This is Victoria. My wife."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am." Sam chimed.

"Victoria, meet the Winchester boys." Chris disclosed.

"Oh, what a pleasure." Victoria smiled, almost a smirk.

Dean gave a firm nod of his head.

"We have company?" Allison came down the stairs, her long brown wavy hair bouncing gently with her movements.

"Dean, Sam, this is my daughter, Allison." Chris informed the two.

Sam gave a friendly wave of his hand, Dean kept that grin on his face.

"Just some work buddies." Chris explained to his daughter.

"Oh, okay." Allison didn't seem curious in the slightest. "That reminds me, can you pick me up some new arrows later? I've lost some of the others."

"Sure thing, sweetheart." Chris agreed and with that Allison disappeared upstairs once more. "She loves archery. She's one of the top in her class." Chris let the brothers know. "She has almost a better aim than me." He added.

"Sounds like she's one hell of a huntress." Dean assumed.

Chris hushed him gently. "She doesn't know about the family secret just yet."

Sam gave Dean a small look. They had learned about the family business at a young age, when most boys were at school, Dean and Sam were traveling with their father across the country, learning about new monsters. Then again, their mother had died from the yellow-eyed demon, Azazel. Their father had to teach them everything he knew, to prepare them for such confrontations with the supernatural later in life and keep them alive. Despite the learning curve at first, both brothers took pride in their work.

"I won't slip up again." Dean insisted.

"Good." Chris looked over to both brothers, Victoria, too. "There's still a few more people you need to meet." He stated, walking towards the kitchen and through it to the garage.

Dean followed, Sam right at his heels. While being cautious, he couldn't help but feel a small sense of ease being around the other hunters. As they entered the garage, the two males from the previous night stood idly inside as did a woman with blonde hair.

"Who are these guys?" The blonde asked, raising an eyebrow to Chris.

Chris smirked at the woman. "These are the Winchester brothers." He informed. "Boys, meet Kate. My sister." He looked over to Dean and Sam with that smirk still on his face.

Dean's eyes glittered towards the blonde, he gave Kate a smug grin. "Hello." He greeted.

"Hey," Kate greeted, a small tug of her lips revealed she was grinning too. "It's nice to see some fresh faces." She always enjoyed meeting new hunters; cute ones at that.

"Likewise," Dean told her.

Sam walked around a small section of the garage, admiring all the guns behind a grated wall. His eyes slightly widened at the sight of them all. Shotguns, snipers, handguns, even daggers rest upon the wall. It was like a hunter's paradise.

"These two guys are Bubba and Grant." The males each nodded their heads.

Dean gave them a nod in return, "Nice to meet you all."

Sam spun to face the group. "Yeah, it's nice to meet you all." He was probably more excited to be hunting with a group of likeminded people than Dean was. Still, he hoped his brother would warm up to the family sooner than later.

"I see you've taken a liking to my collection." Chris pointed out, turning to Sam.

"It's pretty impressive." He spoke with slight admiration.

"You said you'd bring us up to speed? So, what's been going on in Beacon Hills?" Dean turned his attention to the werewolves.

Chris walked towards the work bench in the garage and took out a key to open a small compartment. He propped it open and pulled out a piece of paper, unfolding his own map of the city. Splaying it out onto the work bench, he waved the brothers over.

Red sharpie had been planted in various dots across the map, "All these points are werewolf sightings." There were also blue points. "These are deaths or where we found the bodies of dead packs we were hunting." He glanced at the boys to make sure they were following along. "Now, what's intriguing is, there's no werewolf being killed by itself. It's _always_ a pack." Chris explained. "There were about five or six packs that we knew of. Now, we're thinking there's only one or two left in the immediate area."

"We know of one family." Kate piped up, crossing the garage before she took Chris' keys and opened the gated area keeping the weapons safe. She withdrew a pump shotgun and looked down the barrels after opening the compartment where the bullets went.

"The Hale's." Chris confirmed.

"The Hale's." She repeated. "We thought they were all dead but we're suspecting one is still alive out there somewhere. We haven't found them yet." The blonde brought the shotgun to a close with a snap, pretending to aim right at Dean. "Maybe you can help us snuff him out."

"Gladly." Dean replied. He was itching to be back on a hunt.

Kate placed the shotgun away and plucked up the daggers. She smirked at the metal pointed end before her eyes flitted back to Dean. "Really?"

"Really."

Without a word, she threw the dagger right by Dean. It soared right by his head and became embedded into a target on the opposing wall. Dean spun to face the target, he gave it a satisfied smirk. "Nice aim."

"Perfect aim." Kate shot back.

Sam shook his head slightly, tilting it towards Chris. "So, you said you don't know who the last remaining wolf is? What makes you think they're still in town?"

"Because there's still an alpha out there creating new werewolves. The family had an alpha. As you know, the alpha is the strongest in his or her pack. They've got to be the last one alive." Chris stressed.

"Fair enough." Sam affirmed.

"Let's go hunting." Dean suggested.

"Not so fast." Chris cut off his idea. "There's a second pack. We know absolutely nothing about them."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "Nothing?"

Shaking his head, Chris let out a lengthy sigh. "Whoever they are, they're keeping their identities tightly wrapped."

"Okay? So we try to catch them on the next full moon. It's in, what, three days?" Dean was positive they could figure out who it was. "We find the alphas, we find the packs." Little did they know, one pack consisted of teenagers whom Allison and Lydia had befriended.

"When are we going to let Allison in on this?" Kate wondered, crossing the garage to retrieve the dagger she had thrown.

"Now's not the time, Kate. We'd be putting her in danger."

"Actually, the sooner she knows, the better." Dean remarked. "Sammy and I knew about the supernatural pretty young in life. And, look how we turned out. We can defend ourselves and go in a situation headfirst, knowing what we're dealing with." He was confident.

"I'm not ready to break it to her. The time will come when it comes." Chris dismissed Kate and Dean.

"Your call." Dean decided. Ultimately, it was his daughter.

"There's still a couple of cellars in town where we haven't checked. We think one of the packs may be taking shelter there on the full moons. Why don't you two check one out and we'll take the other?" Chris suggested.

"Sounds like a plan." Sam answered.

"I'll go with the Winchesters." Kate told her brother.

"I'll take Bubba and Grant with me."

"We'll go wherever you place us." Sam insisted.

"These green points. Those are the locations of the cellars."

Dean noted the locations, seeing that other green points had been crossed off.

* * *

With Derek knocked out, the group of teenagers was able to drive him over to the veterinary clinic where Deaton worked with Scott. Luckily, he had been working a late night shift. The teens had dropped Derek Hale off at the location, leaving him over night while Deaton worked on finding an herbal cure for the potent wolfsbane.

As the morning shone through the shades, Stiles abruptly shot up from the chair he'd fallen asleep on. Scott was pacing back and forth as he waited and Jackson sat at the other chair. Derek's pack had left in fear that the six of them waiting for Derek would raise suspicions if another resident were to go into the clinic.

Yawning, Stiles peered up at Scott. "Anything yet?"

"Nothing." Scott answered.

Jackson sat still in the chair, his wounds from the night before had fully healed and he'd changed his clothing, discarding the tattered attire in a nearby dumpster. "All we can do is wait." He reminded his leader.

"I know." Scott continued to pace. He put both his hands on the back of his head before they dropped back down.

"Your pacing is causing me to feel anxious." Stiles explained briefly. "Do you think you could sit?"

Scott shook his head. "No. We're dying, Stiles. We've got hunters and other werewolves seeking us out and killing us all. What am I supposed to do?"

Scott had a point and Stiles rose from his seat. He reached out to give a comforting hand to his friend's shoulder. "Look, whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Derek will be fine. He's always fine."

"Yeah? What if he's not? You know, that leaves Erica and Isaac and Boyd all vulnerable. And they're still trying to adapt. They're not like me."

"I'm not trying to butt-in but, we're all vulnerable, Scott." Jackson reminded the alpha. "All of us are going to be fighting for our lives until we figure out what the hell is going on out there." He was just as worried as everyone else, even if his cold demeanor didn't show it.

Deaton finally emerged from the back room. "This wolfsbane is stronger than any other I've seen before." He began. "It's not grown from around here. It's a combination of wolfsbane and other herbs but I haven't nailed it down just yet."

Scott threw his arms up before they fell back down. "This is just wonderful."

"I've given Derek some sage to counteract the wolfsbane. It has a healing property so maybe it will be enough to help him fight it. Maybe he'll be able to heal on his own."

"And if he doesn't?"

"We'll have to find another remedy somewhere else." Deaton concluded.

"Somewhere else?" Stiles asked.

"A witch, maybe. A warlock." Deaton suggested.

"And where the hell are we supposed to find that?"

Shaking his head, Deaton took a step backwards towards the back room. "I'm not sure yet. Let me keep Derek here overnight, okay? I'll keep him safe." His eyes met Scott's. "I promise."

"Fine." Scott agreed, almost hesitant in his agreement.

With that, the three teens left.


	7. Chapter 7

Returning to the loft, Scott broke the news to Derek's pack. The three looked stunned, confused, empty almost without their alpha. Scott felt a pang of guilt for not being able to bring Derek back safely. He could only pray that the sage would help by running its course through Derek's bloodstream and fight off the toxic plant. "I'm sorry," He apologized.

Erica stepped forward, worry clearly displayed across her face but annoyance in her tone, "And where the hell are we supposed to find a witch? It's not like we've ever crossed paths with one before."

Stiles stepped between her and Scott. "Erica, please. We'll work on it together."

"It doesn't matter! None of this matters if we're killed! Did you all forget there's a full moon right around the corner? Without Derek, we're exposed!" Erica began to freak out, her mouth agape in shock.

"Erica," Isaac tried.

"No! Isaac, I don't want to die. I don't want _any_ of us to die."

"There's no sure thing saying that somebody's already coming for us. We don't know that yet." Isaac wanted to calm her down before she went into a rage.

"Aren't you the least bit worried?" Erica shook her head, disbelief crossing her face. "I'd think at least you would agree with me."

"And I do!" Isaac shot back, his face more serious now. "But, we need to remain calm. This isn't going to help us or help Derek."

Boyd kept quiet, silently sitting on the sofa in the loft. Jackson, too, kept quiet, sitting upon the steps of the loft.

"Look, nobody is going to die!" Stiles piped up, frustration in his tone. "Okay? We need to stick together. Besides, we have Scott and even though you're not in his pack, he'll keep you safe. I can guarantee it!" Stiles would always back up his best friend and had an extreme amount of faith in Scott McCall.

"Sorry, but Jackson and Scott aren't strong enough to protect all of us." Erica retorted, turning her back before crossing the room. She stood next to the window, a vacant expression now painted upon her face.

"You forgot Olivia." Jackson told Erica.

"A new wolf isn't going to be enough, Jackson."

"If you doubt everyone, you're not giving them a chance to prove to you that they can keep you safe." Stiles explained.

Erica only trusted her alpha and her alpha _alone._ Derek was the one who chose her, who turned her, who made her life _better._ She pledged her loyalty to him, not to Scott.

"Maybe we should stay in the cellar on the full moon." Boyd stood up from the couch, shoving his hands into his pockets, a little uncomfortable with the current topic of Derek.

"The cellar?" Isaac was confused and it showed in his green eyes.

"Derek brought me there after I turned. He showed me a safe place before we had the train station." Boyd went on. "At least, a couple of us should stay there."

"I'll go." Erica chimed in. "I'll go with Scott." She finally caved and gave Scott a chance to prove himself.

Scott shrugged his shoulders. "Show me the cellar." He told Boyd.

Boyd could remember the way to the cellar like the back of his hand. Despite it being deep in the woods, he carried himself confidently. Even though it was daytime, they needed to be cautious. Hunters didn't work only at night, they also tended to hunt during the day. Derek had warned them to not be too adventurous in the woods, no matter the time of day. Still, this was an urgent matter.

Erica and Scott followed Boyd willingly. Boyd was right, they needed to split up during the full moon. If they all stayed together, there was a chance they'd be caught as a whole. The alpha trenched on through the thick of the earth and debris from the trees. "Are we close yet?" Scott's senses were pulling him in a certain direction and he caught a small whiff of a wolf. Surely, they were, even without Boyd answering.

"Very close." Boyd informed the other wolf. As they came upon a small clearing and a slope, Boyd climbed down and the two wolves followed easily.

As they came upon the cellar, Boyd heaved the heavy wooden door open. Coming upon the gate that led to the entrance, he swung it open and went inside the cellar. Spinning slowly, he looked at the other two. "Here we are."

Erica glanced around, taking in the musky scent and the dampness which seemed to linger in the air. She saw another set of gates nearby and walked over. Looking inside, she noticed the chains that hung on the wall, knowing exactly what they were; restraints to keep a werewolf in. She was familiar with them, despite not liking them.

Scott opened one of the gates and paced over to the chains. He picked them up and gave them a firm tug. Tapping into his werewolf powers, his eyes glowed a vibrant ruby and his teeth extended while he pulled as hard as he possibly could. The chains didn't budge but he'd still have to take the necessary precautions. Once he returned to his human form, he glanced at Erica and Boyd. "I'll have to grab a few extra chains, just to be safe. They should be fine for you though."

Even though Scott was more in control of his werewolf side than the others, he still chained himself up so he wouldn't hurt anybody. The dark haired male would never take the risk of roaming freely while he was a werewolf. Even the most self-disciplined like Derek still made sure he was in a secure place whenever a full moon was in sight.

"Thanks for taking us here, Boyd." Scott told the other male.

"No problem."

* * *

 _Knock, knock._

Allison's attention turned to the door. She was laying on her stomach on her bed, immersed in a book until the knocking snapped her back to reality. "Come in," She prompted.

Pushing open the door, Kate appeared and gave her niece a large grin. "Whatcha reading?"

"Catcher in the Rye. It's an assignment, even though I've already read it last year." Allison returned her aunt's grin.

"That's a good book."

"It's alright." Allison agreed.

"Mind taking a break?" Kate questioned.

"For what?" Allison wondered, tilting her head a fraction.

Kate grinned wider, shrugging her shoulders slightly. "I was thinking we could go somewhere and you could show off some of those archery skills." The blonde was excited, though she tried to keep her cool.

Allison sat up on her bed, neatly closing the book before rising from where she sat. She laid it flatly on her desk and shrugged her own shoulders. She could use a break, she'd been reading all morning. College was difficult at times, but she was adjusting well enough. "Alright. I could get away for a while, I suppose."

Kate rose from where she sat, too. "Great! I'll go get everything ready. You might want to change into something a little warmer. It's a little chilly out today." Little did Allison know, Kate had a secret to share with her niece.

She climbed down the stairs, her hand gliding down the rail as she did so. Once she got to the kitchen and the garage, she was met by her brother.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm taking Allison out for a bit. We're going to practice her archery." Kate explained, vaguely. She wasn't about to tell Chris that she was going to spill the beans to his precious little, clueless, daughter.

"Okay. Bring her back by dinner." Chris reminded his sister.

"Not a problem." Kate returned. She brought her attention to the garage and pressed the button to open it. The sun began to fill the blackness as it crept across the shadows of the previously closed door. She opened the weaponry and grasped two of the bows before bringing them out to her SUV. She piled them into the trunk before going back inside and retrieving some arrows. Before leaving the garage, she silently opened a secret stash and brought out a couple of vials of wolfsbane.

Oh, boy, she was going to drop a big bomb on Allison.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_ Hi, everyone! I hope you're all enjoying this fiction so far. I just wanted to say that I'm having a lot of fun writing it and that reviews would be appreciated as I'd like to know how it's being received. Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note:_ I do not own any of the canon characters. However, I am incorporating a couple of OC characters. One being Olivia who is a werewolf in Scott's pack (she will be played by Troian Bellisario) and Elijah who is a warlock from New York who happens to be friends with Olivia (as that's where she's from). Elijah will be played by Tyler Blackburn. I'm also asking for reviews to see how this fic is being received, thanks!

* * *

Emerald hues snapped open and Derek gasped deeply. He could hear dogs barking and whining, cats meowing. Immediately, he knew where he was. But, was it real? Was he really at Deaton's? He'd been in a slumber, seeing things that weren't real; hallucinations, imagination. The pain still coursing through his body proved he was awake and definitely in the present.

Deaton happened in on the moment Derek sat up on the table he was sprawled on. "You're up." Deaton acknowledged. "I wasn't sure you were going to make it."

"Where's my pack?" Derek needed to know, his voice urgent.

"Now, hold on. You're not completely better. You're not healing."

"I don't care." Derek protest.

"I do." Deaton replied. He brought a shot out of his pouch, readying the needle. Quickly, he brought it to Derek's hip and injected him with more sage. "The sage is only doing so much. It's keeping the wolfsbane at bay for now."

The alpha grunted when the injection invaded his skin. His lips pressed into a thin line, sweat still sliding down his body. "What's that mean?"

"It means we need to find you a witch or warlock. They have more potent herbs than I can obtain. I'm sure they can come up with something stronger that can fully relieve your symptoms." He seemed pretty positive despite the alpha being in pain.

"A witch." Derek repeated. He groaned. Just another annoying task he had to add to his list.

Deaton got a roll of bandage and began to wrap Derek's leg in a fresh new wrap. "With that last injection, you should be a little more stable. At least, stable enough for the next few days."

"The full moon's coming."

"I know. You'll need to find help before then." Deaton explained.

Scott and Jackson made their way into Scott's home. Olivia quickly greeted them, her brown eyes filled with relief. Her skin was fair and her wavy, brown hair was pulled into a long braid.

"I'm so glad you're back. I was beginning to worry." Olivia said. She walked over to give an embrace to both men.

"We're fine. It's Derek who's not doing so well." Jackson expressed, his face slightly distressed.

Olivia tilted her head a fraction, stress seeping into her own chocolate hues. "Is he going to be okay?"

"We don't know. We need to find a witch."

"A witch?" She repeated.

"Yeah, it's the wolfsbane." Scott explained.

"I think I might know of a guy." Olivia told the two.

"Oh?" Scott was curious, his eyes sparkled with confusion.

She nodded her head, her braid slightly moving with the movement. "In New York. Maybe I can get him to fly down." Olivia had a longtime friend back home, someone she trusted more than anyone in Beacon Hills. "When do we need it by?"

"As soon as possible." Jackson said.

* * *

"Hey, it's me." Olivia greeted the person on the other end, a small smile coming to her face. She was always pleased to hear his voice, even if the circumstances weren't the greatest.

"How've you been, Liv?" The male asks, content in his own voice.

She shrugged her shoulders, though he couldn't see the movement. "It's been a bit rough here lately." She wasn't ready to tell her friend about the fact she'd become a werewolf.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine, Elijah." She responded. "But, I need a bit of a favor."

"Anything." Elijah's voice was soft yet sincere.

"How do you feel about coming down to Beacon Hills for a little while?"

* * *

As the SUV rolled through the dirt road, Allison's eyes clung to the window and she peered into the thick of the woods. She'd always enjoyed going out to practice archery and the wooded part of the city was the perfect little getaway. She took note of the changing fall colors upon the trees; auburns, golds, rusts. It brought a small smile to her face. Once the vehicle stopped, the brunette got out and went to the back of the car to retrieve her bow and arrows.

Kate popped the trunk for Allison. "It's nice to get away for a little bit, isn't it?" She grabbed her own bow and arrows.

"Definitely. There's only so much homework my brain can process." Allison joked lightly.

"I remember college. It was fun." Kate wasn't as studious as Allison.

"Remind me to pick up some pointers on what 'fun' actually means while I'm around you." The brunette told her aunt before walking into the vast clearing. "So, what exercise are we going to work on today?"

"Distance." Kate instructed. She pointed with an index finger to a nearby tree and then a tree much further off in the distance. Each tree had a wooden target tacked right into it.

"Okay. That's easy." Allison expressed, not a beat of worry in her tone.

Kate took a slow breath in and out. She focused on her breathing, the rise and fall of her chest as she aimed the arrow with both of her eyes open. Pointing at the first target, she let go of the arrow and watched as it zoomed right on target.

Allison peered off at the distant tree, getting a small smug grin on her face. She lined herself up to the target and did the same as Kate had; she focused entirely on her breathing. With ease, she let the arrow fly and watched as it impaled itself on the furthest target, right in the center. "Your turn." Allison smiled at her aunt.

Kate shook her head marginally, her blonde locks flowing with the movement. Standing next to her niece, she aimed and shot the next arrow. It looked close but she had a feeling Allison outdid her – as she usually had. "Let's go take a look." Kate suggested.

As they strolled through the clearing, Kate glanced curiously at Allison. "Weird question but, have you ever looked into our family's background at all?"

Allison peered up at her aunt, confusion in her eyes. "Not really, no." A brief pause sat between them. "Why?"

Kate looked to the ground. "Just curious." A girl with natural curiosity like Allison was still left in the dark? Kate couldn't believe it. She knew Allison was definitely old enough to handle the truth. She could understand Chris' concern if Allison was still in high school, but she wasn't.

"Should I be looking into our family's lineage?" Allison wondered.

"Yes." Kate simply returned. "I think you'd find it very interesting." The blonde contently smiled down at her niece.

As they came upon the tree, Kate noticed the fraction in which her arrow was slightly off centered. Allison's, however, was perfect; dead on. She looked down at the brunette with an approving gaze. "Why am I not surprised at all?"

Allison chuckled, her dimples revealing themselves upon her cheeks. "To be fair, I practice at school all the time."

"I know, but your aim is always perfect. I need to work on mine."

"You are better with a gun." Allison pointed out, recalling the time Kate had taken her to the shooting range.

"You've got a point there." Kate agreed before she worked on pulling the arrows out of the target. "Hey, Allison. I have something for you to see." She halted in her movements before she withdrew a small vial from one of her pockets.

Allison's face scrunched in curiosity for a moment until caramel eyes fell upon the small vial. "What is it?"

"Here. Smell it." Kate insisted, handing the small vial to Allison.

Accepting the vial, Allison carefully took the small rubber top off of it. Exposing the substance inside, she took a small whiff, an herbal and floral scent hit her nose. "It smells nice."

"Give it to certain people and it's actually pretty deadly." Kate expressed with a small laugh.

"Why are you showing this to me?" Allison questioned, unsure of the motive behind giving her such a strange item.

"It goes back to our family's history. You need to know these things." Kate began. "Your dad won't be the one to tell you so I—"

"Tell me what?" Allison interrupted.

Kate let out a small sigh before she looked Allison right in the eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about. Specifically, what our family does and it's traditions we need to uphold." Hunting werewolves went far back on the family tree, something the Argent family always took pride in. "And those Winchester guys, they're also in on it."

"In on what?" Allison was becoming visibly upset. What was her dad hiding from her? Had he really been hiding something to her all this time? Her eyes burned with the sting of soft tears but she blinked them away rapidly, not wanting to cry.

"We hunt, Allison. That's what we do." Kate revealed, still vague.

"I already know about that." It wasn't anything new.

"No. We hunt things that other people couldn't handle or things that hurt people."

" _Things_?" None of it was adding up to Allison.

"Werewolves." Kate finally stated.

Eyebrows knitted together and Allison took a small step backwards from her aunt. "Werewolves? Do you really hear yourself, Aunt Kate? That's ludicrous." Allison wouldn't stand for such a trick. Turning to walk away, she placed the top back on the vial and tossed it over her shoulder to her aunt. "I just want to go home."

Catching the vial, Kate pressed her lips into a thin line. "Allison, wait."

* * *

Stiles sat upon the chair in the middle of Scott's living room. His mind was racing wildly with all the stressful events which continued to plague himself and his friends. This caused him to nervously tap his fingers against the top of his knee, involuntarily. Not only was he stressing, he was partially sleep deprived and that didn't always go well for him.

Jackson strolled into the room and took a plop on the nearby couch. Naturally, the two had nothing to really say to each other or talk about. Still, blue eyes couldn't help but notice the anxiety racing through Stiles' form; his back rigid against the seat he sat in, his fingers tapping along his knee. Jackson's brows slowly came together, concern filling his eyes momentarily – _very_ momentarily.

"You wanna say something? Tell me what you're thinking?" Jackson asked, almost dreading the fact he'd even asked.

Stiles looked over at him confused, his head tilting a fraction. "You? You want me to talk to you?" Was Jackson serious? "No." Stiles finished.

Whatever moment Jackson was trying to have with Stiles didn't pan out. "Fine."

A clattering of footsteps could be heard as both Scott and Olivia came down the staircase and waltzed into the family room. Stiles shot up from his seat. "Any news?"

"Elijah's coming." Olivia informed them.

"Who's Elijah?" Jackson shook his head. "Do we really need more people in on this?"

"He's a friend. And, he's a warlock." Scott clarified.

Jackson's face softened. "Oh."

"He'll be landing tomorrow morning, bright and early. Five o'clock."

"Five o'clock?!" Stiles nearly shouted. As if he wasn't sleep deprived enough.

"Yes. And you're going to pick him up." Scott gave Stiles a quick look.

"Me? Why me? Why can't Jackson drive his fancy Porsche and pick him up?" Stiles protested.

"Because the pack needs to stick together right now." Scott answered.

Stiles walked over and pulled his friend aside, lifting a hand he brought it around Scott's shoulders, his other hand patting Scott's chest. "I thought _I_ was part of the pack?"

"You are." Scott returned. "But, I just need you to do this. Please."

Stiles groaned a tiny bit. "I'll do this because I love you."

"Thanks, Stiles."

* * *

"What do you think of our new friends?" Sam looked up from his plate of food at his brother.

Dean chewed on the burger, his eyes clasped shut in enjoyment. "Let me enjoy this, Sam." He just wanted one moment to relax.

"Alright." Sam scoffed a laugh and shook his head.

"Mmm," Dean moaned. "This is a good burger."

"You say that about every restaurant we hit for food."

"No. This, this is a work of art, Sammy." Dean's eyes finally peeled open so he could admire the food; the way the cheese was perfectly melted on the patty, the fresh lettuce and tomato, the amazing patty which was juicy yet cooked to perfection.

"If you say so." Sam laughed again.

Taking another bite, Dean chewed the food around before he swallowed and took a sip of his Dr. Pepper. Finally, he sat the burger down on the plate and wiped his hands gently. There were two things Dean Winchester liked (besides women): burgers and pie.

"Now, what was the question again?" Dean took another swig of the soda.

"Our new friends? What do you think about the Argent's?"

Dean pondered a moment, trying to collect the right set of words before he replied to his younger brother. "I think they're interesting people. There's a hell of a lot more of them than there is of us. But I also think we need to watch our backs."

Sam expected such a cautious statement from Dean. The older brother had a difficult time letting his guard down and Sam knew that the only person he trusted more than his younger brother was Bobby.

"We should get the rest of this to go and work on reading up more of the lore in this city." Dean waved down a waitress. "Two boxes to go, please. Oh, and can I have a piece of the apple pie? Thanks."


	9. Chapter 9

The Jeep's tires squealed lightly as Stiles came to a halt near the entrance of the airport. He glanced down at his cellphone, waiting for a text from Elijah. He had one picture to go off of – **one**. He didn't know this guy, not really what he looked like or dressed like. Of course, Elijah also only had one photo of Stiles, so both of them were going in a little blind. Though, Stiles had to admit, the picture he sent of himself was _much_ better than Elijah's. At least, that's what he thought.

Getting out of the Jeep, Stiles rounded the vehicle to stand near the sidewalk and leaned against his Jeep. Still no text message. He let out a frustrated groan. Why couldn't Olivia pick up her own friend? Why was he the designated driver who was always forced to go this place or that place? He was getting fed up with it. _I'm going to talk to_ _ **everyone**_ _about this. I am. Scott, Derek. Everyone,_ he thought.

That's when he was shaken from his thoughts and Elijah waved him down from a small distance. Stiles crossed over to the entrance, bending down to grab one of Elijah's bags from the handle before tugging it along.

"I never got a text message. I thought we agreed on that." Stiles sounded slightly annoyed.

"I must've forgotten. I have other things on my mind, ya know?" Elijah shot back, a little snark in his words.

" _Alrighty then_." Stiles' tone bit with his own snarky voice.

"Can we stop at Starbucks on the way back? I'm itching for some coffee." Elijah expressed.

"Starbucks is more important than meeting up with your friend?"

"No. I just need my caffeine fix."

Stiles reached into the depths of his pockets and withdrew fifty cents. Handing it to Elijah he gave him a sarcastic smirk. "There's a soda machine. Knock yourself out." Man, he already didn't like the guy.

Elijah looked down at the change and then back up at Stiles. He handed it back. "Actually, we're going to Starbucks. No questions about it." His eyes flared with annoyance and that's when he held out his palm, a small ball of fire began to form within it.

Stiles' eyes widened marginally. "Okay. Alright. No need to get testy." He received the change and pushed it back down into his pockets. _What a jerk._ Stiles began to mutter under his breath while he hauled the bags into the back of the Jeep.

Climbing back into his beloved vehicle, Stiles ignited the engine and allowed the Jeep to purr momentarily before he began to pull away after the other male climbed in. Heading back into traffic was a mess; cars were jammed everywhere and people were shouting at others. He _hated_ the airport and picking up this guy didn't make the experience any more pleasant.

"Mind if we listen to some tunes?" Elijah asked before taking it upon himself to flick through the stations.

 _This guy. Really?!_ Nope. Stiles was definitely having a word with everyone about being the designated driver because this was the last straw. _He's pushy, asinine, rude, messing with my Jeep. I hate him!_

* * *

Storming through the doors of the McCall home, Stiles Stilinski had no reason to keep his cool any longer. Closing the door quite loudly, this caused Scott to jump up from where he lay on the couch. Sleep clung to his eyes and he blinked slowly, his arms stretched out wide as he popped his back gently.

"Hey, Stiles."

"Don't you 'hey, Stiles' me, buddy. We need to have a word, you and I. I'm talking about the whole 'let's-always-make-Stiles-the-drop-off-and-pick-up-guy'." He began.

Scott was still trying to wake up and Stiles was revved up, talking a hundred miles an hour; so quick that Scott could barely keep up. "..Did you take your Adderall today?"

Stiles' mouth sat agape and he waved his arms out from his sides, throwing them up in the air. "Yes! I took my Adderall. Did you not hear anything I said?"

Nodding his head, Scott sat back down on the couch. "I heard you, Stiles. You're tired of being the person we ask to drive us everywhere." Putting on his puppy dog eyes, he looked as his friend. "I'm sorry. I won't ask again."

Nope. The puppy dog eyes weren't going to work this time. "Besides, the guy's an ass, alright? He's an ass! Worse than _Jackson_!" Stiles complained, his voice a higher pitch than it usually was. "He demanded we go to Starbucks, he didn't help put his own luggage in the back, he didn't text me like we agreed on, he didn't even greet me with a hello. Are we sure we really need his help?"

"I heard that." Jackson called from the kitchen.

"Since when does Jackson spend the night?!"

Scott paced over to his friend, placing both hands firmly upon Stiles' shoulders in a friendly manner. His dark eyes meshed with Stiles' chestnut hues and he apologized once more, "I'm sorry. You might not like the guy but we do need his help. He's the only person who can probably help Derek." Scott explained. "You still want to help Derek, don't you?"

"He's an ass, too." Stiles commented about Derek. Man, there were _a lot_ of asses in his life it seemed. Rolling his eyes, he finally caved, "Yes, I want to help Derek." He added, almost dreading that he agreed to think of Derek's best interest.

"Then we need to work with who we've got."

Olivia walked down the stairs, noticing Stiles had returned. "It's good to see you're back." She greeted before heading outside to help Elijah with his bags.

Melissa McCall left the kitchen and gave a smile to Stiles and Scott. "Alright, I'm off to work." She told her son, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "You know I don't mind having your friends over but do you think they could stay somewhere else tonight?"

"Yes, mom. I'm sorry." Scott answered. "I'll make sure the house is empty before you get back."

"Thank you, sweetie."

Scott waved to his mother and watched her exit the home. Once she left, Olivia came inside accompanying Elijah, holding onto one of his bags. "Everyone, this is Elijah."

Elijah simply waved a hand. "Care to explain to me why I had to come down here in such a rush?"

"Maybe you should get settled in a little bit before we go into grave detail." Olivia suggested.

* * *

Allison had been up all night long trying to figure out her family's lineage and their secret. She had searched the web for anything and everything regarding the Argent family name. What was interesting was that she did come across a few articles which mentioned the supernatural and claimed the Argents to be quite the superstitious bunch. However, she didn't find any solid proof or anything that told her, 'hey, your aunt isn't as crazy as you think she is'.

This discouraged the brunette, she felt defeated and rendered completely and utterly lifeless. Everything was just too much to process and she wasn't sure she should even ask her father about any of it. The only person she could think to turn to was her friend Lydia Martin. So, grabbing her cell phone she called the redhead without another thought.

"Hello?" Lydia's voice answered on the other end.

"Hey," Allison greeted.

"You're aware it's only six-thirty in the morning, aren't you?" Lydia's voice sounded tired, as if she'd just awakened.

"Sorry. I just really needed someone to talk to." Allison explained.

"Well, you know I'm always here for you. It doesn't matter what time it is." Lydia reminded the brunette.

Allison could hear her shift over the other line, maybe she propped herself up on her bed.

"So, spill, lady."

"It's just that, I think my family might be hiding something from me. Something big."

"Like what?" Lydia sounded puzzled. Since when did Allison's perfect father hide anything from his beloved daughter?

"My aunt told me something really strange. I don't want to believe her and I can't find anything linking my family to what she's said."

"Okay, honey, you're being pretty vague. Just, tell me what it is?" Lydia insisted.

"Werewolves, Lydia. My aunt claims we hunt werewolves."

Lydia scoffed, it didn't take long for her to start laughing on the line. Clearly, she was amused.

"I'm serious!" Allison replied. "She was serious, too."

Lydia cleared her throat. "Werewolves, Allison. We're talking about lycanthropy; people who shift on a full moon. People with a craving to kill that's beyond their control. This stuff isn't real in the slightest."

"Look, she says the Winchesters are in on it, too. So, please, help me out here?"

Lydia let out a deep sigh. "Sam and Dean are just your average Joes, Allison. So is your family." She paused, almost hesitant. "But, I'll look into it." She agreed.

"Thank you."

* * *

Lydia Martin wasn't stupid. In fact, she was the top in her class, sitting on a comfortable 5.0 GPA which she'd carried over from her high school days. She studied medicine; a complex and studious major but loved every second of it. She yearned for more knowledge and that wasn't going to change anytime soon. Still, this was a little ridiculous to her.

Sam and Dean were out so this gave Lydia the best opportunity to rummage through their belongings without being caught snooping around. The dainty redhead crept into the bedroom Dean was staying in, closing the door silently behind herself. From the looks of it, everything was in its right place, nothing out of the ordinary.

 _God, why am I doing this?_

Peeking under the bed, she found Dean's duffle bag and yanked it out. Surely, if he was hiding something, this would be the first place she'd suspected it to be. Peeling open the zipper, she propped open the flap of the bag and began to rummage through his clothing. After she'd gone through the entire bag, she was hesitant to press on and continue snooping. She felt a sense of guilt wash over herself since she accused her relatives of being something they obviously were not. Zipping the bag up, Lydia returned the bag to where it lay.

That's when she caught a glimmer of something silver and shiny under the wooden panel of the bedframe.

"Huh?"

She carefully slid herself under the bed until she was completely immersed in the darkness. Looking upward at the wood, she reached in and pulled out.. a _gun_? Since when do normal people sleep with guns under their mattress? The door suddenly popped open and Lydia's green eyes widened. She couldn't get caught, definitely not.

"These wolves are definitely laying low, Sam. I'm tired of wasting time trying to find the bastards." Dean was itching for some action already.

"Just another night, Dean. One more night."

Were they talking about the full moon? Lydia put one and two together.

Dean plopped down on the bed and reached underneath for his bag. "At least we've got ourselves a place to stay. We won't have to keep creeping around and keeping secrets with our family."

 _Secrets._

Hm, so Allison was right.

"Let's say our goodbyes and get out of here." Sam told his brother before they both exited the room.

Obviously, Dean had forgotten all about the gun he hid under the mattress. Quickly, Lydia returned it to where it sat and crawled out from under the bed. She exited the room and silently shut the door, traversing back to her own bedroom after she heard the males climb down the stairs.

Grasping her phone, she called Allison, but only reached her voicemail.

"Allison. You were right. Something's going on. I think everything you said was true." Lydia confirmed before abruptly hanging up as she heard someone's footsteps.

Dean popped his head into her room and she offered him a smile. "Hey,"

"Hey," He returned. "I just wanted to say my goodbye. We're heading out of town." Dean lied.

"Already?" Lydia wondered, knowing he was lying.

"Yup. We've got some more work to do in Los Angeles."

"Well, it was good seeing you."

"You too." Dean gave her a small wave before shutting the door and taking his leave.

Lydia couldn't believe her family members, that they were blatantly lying to her and her mother's faces. She was going to confront them when the time was right.


	10. Chapter 10

After hearing Lydia's message, Allison couldn't believe that her family had been lying to her for years about this. Her and Lydia made a plan. While they were all out hunting, the two girls were going to sneak into the Winchester's motel room and search for more evidence to make sure the claims were _actually_ real.

Night time fell quickly and Allison was hiding behind the building, the shadows concealing her form as she pressed against the wall. Lydia was next to her, looking skyward at the circling clouds above. It felt oddly cold for an October night, there was also moisture in the air, something Lydia didn't quite understand.

She rubbed her gloves together. "When?"

"Not yet." Allison replied. Her eyes were fixed on the next building, watching as Dean and Sam took their leave from the room they were staying in.

"And they told you they were leaving town?"

"Mhm," Lydia answered. "Of all the nerve."

Dean was locking the door and Allison swallowed thickly. She waited for them to get into the Impala and watched as they took a sharp turn to the right, towards the woods. The coast became clear, clear enough for the girls to intrude on the Winchester's privacy.

"Come on," Allison instructed and made a silent dash for the motel room.

Lydia followed quickly, retrieving the bobby pin from her hair, her strawberry blonde locks spilling down her back. "I'm surprised you even know how to do this."

"I've had practice sneaking into my father's weaponry." Allison explained, snagging the bobby pin. She placed it inside the lock, twisting it carefully until she heard a successful click. Looking both ways, she made sure that nobody saw them before they proceeded into the room.

Once in the room, Lydia made quick time in shutting the blinds completely and turning on the furthest light from the window. If they got caught in the room, there was no telling what would happen. They weren't sure how much time they had left so they needed to be as quick as they possibly could be.

Allison's chocolate hues landed on the papers pinned to the wall, her eyes tracing each separate sheet curiously. 'Animal attacks,' 'cougar sightings' the different pages read. She noticed a page underneath one of the others and lifted the front paper, revealing another underneath. The page looked dated, slightly crumpled and definitely used. 'Werewolf, lycanthropy' the words read with images displayed of a tall creature standing on its hind legs, claws extended and large canines pronounced.

She took a step backwards, realizing that her aunt was trying to tell her the truth. "Lydia.."

Lydia was occupied with a book in her hand, a journal to be exact. "Allison." She walked over to her friend and showed her the journal.

As they flipped through more of the pages they read them aloud in unison. "Werewolf, demon, skin walker, vampire…" both girls trailed off.

Tears welled in Allison's eyes and she bit her lower lip while shaking her head. Her caramel orbs fell onto Lydia. "How could my dad lie to me about all of this? Why would he?"

"For the same reason Dean and Sam have lied to me and my mom all this time. Fear, maybe."

"Of what? He thinks I can't handle this? That I can't handle myself?"

Lydia shrugged her shoulders and clasped the journal to a close. "Let's get out of here before we're caught." She suggested.

Both girls headed for the exit, the journal remaining in Lydia's arms as they left.

* * *

Chris Argent was cleaning his weapons from his collection, wiping them down with a soft cloth before placing them back in the area where they were secured. He was ready to go out and search the cellars tomorrow for the wolves, positive they would find a hideout that was being used. He was so lost in concentration he didn't hear the garage door open, nor did he hear the footsteps coming right in his direction.

Slamming the journal down onto Chris' work bench, Allison crossed her arms defensively. "Care to tell me what all of this is?"

Chris looked up from where he sat, glancing at Allison and at the journal. "I've never seen this before." He was truthful.

"Yeah, right. Like I'm supposed to believe you anymore." Allison's tone was completely broken, her voice threatening to crack at any given moment.

"This isn't mine." Chris stated but he peeked inside to see the contents of the book. Shutting his eyes momentarily, the father took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly.

"That's exactly what I thought." Allison turned away, beginning to walk back to the door.

"Allison," Chris called out. He rose from where he was sitting. "This isn't how I wanted you to find out."

"Oh, but I have, Dad. Aunt Kate told me. I didn't want to believe it but it's true. You don't have to say another word." Allison dismissed him.

"Kate told you?"

She nodded her head, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't really matter how I found out. The fact is that you've been lying to me! How long were you planning on keeping this from me?"

"Until you were ready." Chris tried.

"And when was that supposed to be?" Allison questioned, anger laced in her tone, tears streaming down her face.

"I don't know." Chris honestly answered.

"You didn't think I could handle it or that I could protect myself, is that it?" Allison couldn't bear standing before her father. She was tired of the lies and she wanted the truth.

"Of course it's not. I've always thought you were capable of protecting yourself. It was just a matter of time." Chris explained, taking a step towards her.

"Don't. Just.. _don't._ " Allison stepped backwards and quickly headed out of the garage.

A wave of guilt cascaded over Chris and his shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. He walked back over to the bench and took a seat in front of it as he had before. Shutting his eyes, he clenched his jaw tightly, not sure if he felt relieved that Allison knew the truth or angry that Kate had gone behind his back and told his daughter.

* * *

"You're all.. werewolves?" Elijah seemed intrigued, looking from Scott to Jackson and then to Olivia. The word sounded so strange coming out of his mouth.

"Not me." Stiles raised his hand. "I'm just your average guy."

"Werewolves." Elijah repeated. It wasn't completely out of the ordinary, right? He was a warlock, after all.

"Yes, we're a pack." Scott informed the other male. "And our friend needs your help."

"What's wrong with him?"

"He was shot with a wolfsbane arrow. He's not able to heal properly. Something's more potent about this wolfsbane and we can't figure out what it is." Jackson explained.

"Okay." Elijah had no prior experience with healing a werewolf but he did understand the uses for wolfsbane and other herbs. He just always thought the superstitious were the only ones who grew or used wolfsbane. "But, it comes at a price."

Stiles was quick to roll his eyes. Of course, this guy.

"A price?" Scott shook his head.

"Elijah," Olivia scolded slightly, giving him a look as if to ask not to do this.

Elijah buckled from his friend's look. "Okay, no price. Just, take me to your friend and give me some time." He instructed.

"Jackson?" Scott asked. "Can you take Elijah to Derek?"

"Sure," Jackson agreed.

It didn't take long for Jackson to drive over to the loft. Most of the ride was silent between the two males. In fact, they really hadn't said anything since they left the McCall residence. Once they arrived, Jackson led the way and Elijah promptly followed in his footsteps without question. As they entered the loft, Jackson noticed Derek sitting at the island in the center of the loft, Erica and Boyd peering out the large window while Isaac sat idly on the couch.

"Don't try to look excited to see me," Jackson entered the loft. None of them greeted Jackson but rather looked over Elijah.

"Who's this?" Erica asked, her voice almost defensive. Why was Jackson bringing some random person to the loft?

"I'm your saving grace." Elijah answered, almost cocky. "Now, which one of you is Derek?"

Derek rose from his seat, even though injured, he shrugged off the pain and stepped forward. "That would be me."

"Let's save the pleasantries and get to work, shall we?" Elijah walked past Jackson and made himself at home by hoisting his backpack onto the island. He began pulling out various items; herbs, bowls, candles. "I have to say, I've never worked on a werewolf before, so forgive me if I'm a little clueless." Even if he could be a jerk, he wanted Derek to know the risks they were taking. "I make no promises."

Derek nodded his head.

Elijah began working on a concoction, throwing some sage and thyme into the bowl, he began crushing the herbs, mixing them together. Withdrawing a lighter from his bag, he began to light some candles as well, the small glow spilling into the loft, creating a different kind of atmosphere. The smell of the fresh herbs hit his nose and he smirked as he enjoyed that smell and was quite fond of it. It brought back memories of his childhood and his parents' quirky little store on a random corner in the bustling city of New York.

"What are you mixing?"

"Sage, thyme. Some other odds and ends but those are the two major herbs. Both have substantial healing properties within them. I heard you've already been given sage but this stuff? It's grown from my family's personal stash. It'd be stronger than anything you were given out here." He boasted.

Derek watched silently, obviously the male knew his craft. He wasn't about to interject or question the help he was receiving. He just wanted to be able to heal in time for the coming full moon. With hunters on their backs, he needed to be in top shape to keep everyone safe.

After mixing the herbs together, Elijah threw in some oils and turned his back to find a glass in the cabinets. After fishing one out, he filled it with water and brought it to the mixing bowl. Using his hand, Elijah waved it over the glass and allowed the water to boil for a mere moment before it settled, steam rising from the substance. He waved his hand towards the mixing bowl, igniting the piece of wood with a small fire, roasting the herbs and oils.

Quickly, he scooped them out of the bowl and into the water before mixing it profusely. As he peered into the glass, the liquid turned a deep violet color, indicating the mixture was ready to drink. "Drink this and then lay down." Elijah told the alpha quite firmly.

Hesitantly, Derek took the glass. He peered into the deep violet drink and with one silent prayer he began to chug it down. Instantly, he felt a little woozy and placed the glass onto the island before going to the couch and laying down as instructed. Elijah followed and placed his hands over the bandage on Derek's leg. He began chanting quietly, clasping his eyes shut as he did so, hoping the mixture of his drink and a healing spell would be enough to help Derek Hale.

After a few moments, he stopped chanting and opened his eyes, peering down at the scruffy alpha. "How do you feel?"

The pain that had been radiating through his core thanks to the wolfsbane had suddenly vanished. Derek could sense his skin beginning to heal beneath the bandages. Ripping them off, he peered down at his leg and watched as the flesh slowly melded back together until it was again, one cohesive piece. "Much better." Derek answered, looking up at Elijah in gratitude. Now, he'd be able to protect his pack without a worry clouding his judgement.

Elijah smirked, proud of his work. "Good."

Erica walked over to Derek, looping her arms around his shoulders from behind in a small embrace. Boyd and Isaac followed, each male placing a comforting hand on each of Derek's shoulders.

"Welcome back," Jackson told Derek.

* * *

Stalking through the woods, Dean kept his eyes fixed on the copy of the map that Chris had given to them. "It should be right over here." The older Winchester informed his brother, his voice filled with confidence.

Sam followed Dean almost restlessly. He just wanted to get out of the woods and get some rest in the motel room before tomorrow night came. "Let's make it quick."

Once they came upon the designated spot, Dean noticed a gate and a wooden door. He cautiously stepped towards it, tucking the map away into his pocket. He brought his flashlight out and placed it under his handgun, kicking open the door and aiming right in front of himself, checking his corners. Nothing was there. "We're clear."

Both males relaxed a little bit but each of them still held onto their flash lights. Dean walked into the cellar, noting the rusted gates nearby. He entered one, emerald eyes noticing the claw marks that riddled the walls exterior. His fingers came into contact with the wall and slid down, tracing the marks.

"These are fresh." He let his brother know.

Sam was in the second caged area, tugging on the chains. "And these are new." Sam acknowledged.

"So, we're in agreement? This is the cellar they're hiding out in." Dean confirmed.

"Yup. That seems to be the case." Sam agreed.

Walking inside the motel room, Dean dived into one of the beds and let out a long sigh. He laid on it belly first, taking in the comfort of the mattress. "I don't want to move for at least five days."

"Unfortunately, we still have work to do." Sam shook his head, shutting the door behind himself. He strolled over to the bedside table where he'd left their father's journal. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Where'd you put Dad's journal?" The taller brother peered down at his brother who still laid flatly on the bed.

"I didn't move it. Maybe you left it in the car." His voice sounded groggy already, as if he were ready to fall asleep.

"No, I never brought it with us tonight. I would have remembered." Worry laced his tone of voice.

"Check your bag then, I don't know." Dean wasn't that worried, he figured his brother misplaced it in the room.

Sam sighed and grabbed his duffle bag. Zipping it open, he shuffled through the clothing inside but found no journal. "It's not here, Dean."

Dean shot up in the bed. "What do you mean 'it's not here'? Where the hell else would it be?"

"I thought you had it last." Sam argued.

"No! You're the one who had it." Dean fought back, insisting he was right.

"I left it on the table!" Sam grunted.


	11. Chapter 11

As the sun began to settle against the hills, Derek and his pack met with Scott at the loft. "Erica, Boyd, you're with Scott. Olivia, Jackson, Isaac, you're with me." Derek laid out the plan for the night. "We'll all meet back here come tomorrow morning." Everyone had their bags, their belongings tucked away neatly, what they'd need for the night. "Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Go home."

"But, I—I'm part of the pack!" He protested, chestnut hues flaring against the warm light of the lamp in the loft.

Sighing, Derek knew he couldn't tell him no without him causing a fit. "You won't be alone. Elijah can go with you."

"How about this? Elijah goes with Boyd, Erica and Scott and I'll stay with you at the subway." Stiles negotiated.

Shrugging his shoulders with a roll, Derek shook his head marginally. "Fine. Just make sure you stay safe." He looked to Elijah and nodded his head towards the other small group.

* * *

"They're going out tonight." Allison told Lydia. "They're hunting the wolves. I overheard them talking." She explained as quickly as possible.

"All of them?" Lydia asked.

"All of them." Allison confirmed.

"Then I guess we need to go out, too." Lydia suggested, quirking an eyebrow.

"How? What are you going to do?"

"I can keep a lookout while you do your archery thing." The redhead kinked an eyebrow, despite her friend being unable to see her.

"Please, tell me that you'll at least find something to bring with you." Allison almost pleaded.

"I will." Lydia felt confident she'd find something she could use to protect herself.

* * *

The redhead put on a coat, buttoning it up as far as it could go. Picking up her cellphone, she decided to text a friend and ask for a favor, deciding that Stiles would be the best bet.

 _Do you still have your baseball bat?_

It didn't take long for her phone to bling and indicate she had received a new text.

 _Of course! Why?_

 _Can I borrow it?_

 _Did you take up baseball?_

 _No, I just need to borrow it for the night. I'm playing softball with my friends and they could use it._

She lied. It was the only thing Lydia could think of saying.

 _I'll drop it off._

 _Just leave it at the front door._

 _Okay!_

There. She had something to defend herself with against the wolves; not that it was a _great_ weapon but it was something.

* * *

"You ready, Sam?" Dean questioned, motioning with his head towards the door.

"I still can't find that journal." He claimed, frustrated with himself.

"We'll worry about it later." Dean tried to keep calm this time, knowing another argument wasn't worth their precious time. They needed to get to that cellar once the sun set and the moon was high in the night sky.

Both men headed towards the Impala and without another thought, they sped off while the sun finally sank and the sky melted into shades of rich blues and deep purples.

* * *

It didn't take long for Stiles to drop off his bat. However, it did take a while for Lydia to get him to leave. That guy just had this personality where he drawled on and on. It wasn't that Lydia didn't like Stiles, she just didn't have a lot of time to meet up with Allison. She drove to the destination Allison had sent her via text message on Google maps. Luckily, Allison was already there and ready to go.

She climbed into Lydia's vehicle. "I found this." Allison unfolded the ragged map. "Something about the green points being a place where the werewolves were hiding out." She handed it to Lydia. "The coordinates—"

Lydia was already typing them into her phone. "No worries. I got it."

* * *

Dean parked the Impala in a safe place before he and Sam began trudging through the thick of the dense forest. If there was one thing Dean learned about Beacon Hills, it was that they had a vast forest, he didn't really expect it but it was perfect feeding grounds for werewolves. "We're going to hit that cellar fast and hard." Dean told Sam, glancing in his direction. "You got the wolfsbane grenades?"

"I packed 'em." Sam informed his brother. He motioned towards the bag that was slung over his shoulder.

"Good. I have a feeling we're gonna run into a _big_ pack of the sons of bitches tonight." Dean shot back, knowing the grenades were a good way to slow down the shifters and stunt their abilities.

The moon was now vibrant in the night sky, peeking out behind a few scattered clouds. Again, the air was cooler than it usually was and the air also held moisture. Dean assumed it was going to rain sometime soon.

As they neared the coordinates on her father's map, Allison and Lydia caught a glimmer of flashlights cutting through the thick darkness. Allison pushed Lydia against a tree, concealing their position.

"What?" Lydia mouthed, she hadn't seen the lights.

"Flashlights," Allison whispered. "Stay still."

"We're getting closer." The girls heard Sam tell Dean.

"I know. We just stopped by yesterday." Dean replied, almost annoyed.

Once their voices faded, Allison let go of her friend. "That was close."

"Too close." Lydia agreed.

Bones cracking in all different directions, Erica cried out in pain; her voice not alone as the other wolves were shifting in the cages next to hers. Her spine shifted, her back rolling with the movements as another audible cry exited her mouth. The next cage over, Scott had already finished shifting, his snarling could be heard throughout the cellar. Boyd, too, had finished transforming and all hell was breaking loose in the cellar when both shifted males began to howl and snarl.

Scott yanked on the chains concealing him to the wall, the wolf trying to slip out of the restraints. With no success, the wolf's eyes changed into a ruby color and he tried charging the gate. Still, no success. Scott had successfully kept himself locked in for the night.

 _Crash! Crack!_

That's when a loud booming shook the cellar, Dean and Sam kicking the door right in. Sam reached into his bag, withdrawing one of the wolfsbane grenades, hoping to incapacitate at least one of the wolves. He could see them all tied to the walls, except for the female who was still mid-shift. She cried out in pain but noticed the hunters and began undoing her restraints. Sam wasted no time, throwing the grenade right by her cell.

The glass shattered and water full of wolfsbane went flying throughout the small cell, hitting Erica dead on. "Ahhh!" She yelled, terrified that the hunters had found them and the cellar. She managed to wriggle out of her restraints, hearing Scott and Boyd going wild in their cells.

Boyd charged the cell, snapping wildly through the bars at Dean and Sam. Somehow, he'd knocked the hinges right off the cell and barged through the restraints, snapping them free. Charging right at Dean, the hunter kicked the wolf away, aiming right down at the creature. He tried shooting Boyd but Boyd was too quick and Dean missed.

"Throw another one!" Dean shouted to his brother.

Sam did as instructed, shattering another glass jar of the substance but Scott was quick too and with an unruly howl, he managed to break the chains surrounding his furry body. He charged Sam, snapping viciously at the hunter as he knocked him over and lay atop him.

 _Things were going straight to hell!_

Erica wriggled out of her restraints and managed to take the opportunity to run from the hunters. Still in human form, only her claws and teeth had emerged but her body was still trying to shift as she passed by both men while they fought for their lives against the other wolves. As she exited the cellar, her body finally took hold of the curse and she transitioned entirely into a wolf; white fur littered her form and she now stood on all fours.

The wolfsbane had stunned her, her senses awry. She didn't know which direction to run to, nor did she know what was going on with her pack member Boyd. She took off in the north direction but before she could get really far, an arrow impaled itself right into her gut.

Allison took aim with a second arrow, her eyes squinting to find the wolf in the darkness. She took a slow breath, finally sensing the direction the wolf was in; it had stopped running meaning it had gotten hit by the first arrow. Releasing the arrow, she heard a loud yelp coming from the wolf's direction and knew she had hit her target. Unknowingly, she had just hit a classmate.

The arrows slowed Erica to a complete halt, the wolf froze in her tracks. She slumped over the ground, her body slowly shifting back to her human form. Coughing up blood, Erica's eyes began to gloss over, a dullness residing in chestnut hues. She groaned, trying to breathe but her breathing became ragged, the pain resonating throughout her core. Blinking slowly, she peered up at the night sky, knowing it would probably be the last night she'd be seeing. The moon was full, a sight Erica hadn't seen since she'd become a werewolf. This caused her to smile, a curve of her lips painted across her face.

Allison and Lydia crunched through the leaves to get a closer look at the wolf Allison had brought down. Looking down at the ground, Allison noted the blonde curls that were spilled across the earth, once she realized who she'd struck with arrows, horror splashed across her face. Lydia stumbled backwards, a breath caught in her throat at the revelation. Thunderstruck, the redhead covered her mouth, feeling as if she were about to vomit.

"..Erica?"

"Allison?" Erica looked upward, her eyes becoming heavier. "..Why?" She questioned, taking a last sharp breath. Slowly, her eyes came to a complete close.

"No, no." Allison protest, bending down to the ground to reach for Erica's pulse. There was nothing, Erica was gone. Regret bit Allison's insides, washed over her like a tidal wave. She began to cry, what had she done?

Lydia tugged at Allison's shoulders. "We need to get out of here." She prompted her friend, gently pulling her up from where she knelt. The two scurried off into the darkness, leaving their classmate's still body behind.

The two male wolves charged out of the cellar, running full speed into the night. Dean raced after them, aiming his pistol towards one of the wolves. With one successful shot, he heard the creature cry out in agony. However, it wasn't enough to stop the wolf and both brothers stopped in their tracks, panting for air.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed.

Sam took a survey of their surroundings, noticing a body nearby in the clearing. "Dean." He motioned with his head towards the body.

Both brothers crossed over before Dean bent down towards the woman. Arrows? He thought the Argents had agreed on taking the other cellar. This was surprising.

"..She looks like she's just a teenager." Sam acknowledged, a sadness in his tone.

"A werewolf is a werewolf." Dean concluded.

Sam knew Dean was right but he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the teenage girl who had just lost her life. It was always different when it was a younger person and it caused guilt to wash over Sam.

"We need to find Chris. These arrows look like his from the other night." Dean pointed out.

Suddenly, a ball of fire flung towards the hunters and Dean narrowly dodged the oncoming flames. "What the hell?"

Sam aimed his gun in the direction it had come from, "Who's there?"

Another ball of fire went whizzing right by Sam, he could feel the intense heat from the flames flickering near his skin. Elijah revealed himself from the darkness, his eyes glowing a vivid white color. Raising both his hands, he cast a spell which caused flames to encircle the brothers, leaving them trapped so they could no longer pursue the wolves who had fled. His eyes remained as pure and white as snow, his face vacant of all emotions.

"Great. A warlock." Dean huffed.

A cloud of smoke concealed Elijah's identity and he was once again invisible in the darkness. He ran for the hills of the city, hoping it would give him and his wolf friends enough time to get away from their pursuers.

Sam looked around at the licking flames as they got closer to the brothers, his back pressed against Dean's. "What now?"

Dean took off his jacket and began hitting the flames with it, trying to put them out. "A little help, Sammy!" Sam began to do the same, calming down the flames within a few moments. Still, their targets had easily gotten away.

"I'll tell you what. This night really _sucks_." Dean angrily expressed.

* * *

The sun spilled over the horizon, signaling a brand new day. As the wolves transformed back into their human forms, they collected their belongings and headed towards the loft. Derek anxiously awaited the other wolves' arrivals. His arms were crossed tightly against his chest. Once Scott arrived with Boyd and Elijah, emerald orbs flickered with worry. "Where's Erica?"

Scott and Boyd looked at each other before Scott stepped forward. The expression on his face automatically told Derek that he had bad news and Derek swallowed a thick lump that had lodged in his throat.

"Erica's dead." Scott informed the other alpha.

Derek's head shook marginally, Stiles gasping nearby almost silently. "That can't be right. We need to find her."

"Someone killed her, Derek." Scott swallowed as well. "Hunters."

Derek's eyes flared with rage but also sorrow, his gut wrenching with pain. He walked over to the island in the kitchen and pressed his palms flatly atop it before hanging his head. His shoulders and back became stiff, his eyes closing while he fell completely silent. There was an unspoken sorrow that hung in the stale air, washing over each person's form as all their expressions had turned to that of shock. Derek almost choked on the tense air, inhaling sharply while hot tears pricked his eyes. How could one of his pack members – his family – die? This couldn't be happening.

Isaac stumbled backwards, almost losing his balance. Olivia carefully pressed a palm to his back, steadying the curly haired male.

"No way. Erica's _not_ dead!" He protest loudly. "She can't be!" His voice cracked with emotion.

Elijah looked to the floor. He had been the lookout yet he hadn't seen the hunters coming. He arrived late to the cellar after Erica had already died. "It's my fault." He spoke up softly.

Isaac looked to Elijah in disbelief.

"I should have kept a better watch. I didn't see the hunters until it was too late."

The curly haired wolf fumed, his nostrils flaring. He crossed over to the warlock and allowed his claws to extend, his teeth to poke out from their hiding place. Lifting the warlock off the ground a good six inches, he threw the male into the wall with such force that cracks spilled like spider webs into the surface at impact.

Elijah fell to the floor with a loud thud, wincing in pain, he shut his eyes tightly with a small groan. Olivia and Scott came between the two, the female wolf bending down to check on her friend. Scott held Isaac back, his eyes flaring a ruby color. "Calm down! Nobody could have helped her!"

"This asshole let her die! He let her **die**!" Isaac cried, his tears spilling down his face.

Derek remained silent before he smacked his lips together. "That's enough." He whispered, but it was enough for each wolf to hear him. His thoughts were racing but one thing was instantly clear. They were at war with not only the werewolves who were killing the packs off, they were also at war with the hunters in town. "Right now, we need to become one cohesive unit. We can't change what's happened but we can honor Erica by finding her killers."

* * *

Scott stood outside the loft, his eyes lingering on the peaceful sky. How could it be so peaceful when one of their own had just died? He didn't understand it and he didn't want to understand it. The alpha kept his head tilted upwards, his brown eyes tracing the clouds as he tried to settle his emotions and untangle himself from the worry that clutched him tightly. If Erica had been killed, nothing was off the table any longer. He had to keep his pack strong, protect Jackson and Olivia at all costs. If anything, he needed to help Derek find the hunters responsible so they could avenge their blonde haired friend.

"Hey," A small voice greeted before Olivia walked down the steps of the building.

Scott looked over his shoulder. "Hey," He responded softly before returning his attention to the sky.

Olivia's eyes followed his, her own chestnut hues taking in the clouds. "What's on your mind?" She wondered, standing right next to her alpha.

Scott gave a small roll of his shoulders, shrugging in response. "I just don't understand how this could happen. I don't understand what's going on."

Olivia's lips curved into a frown, her hues filling with a deep sadness. "I know what you mean."

"Why Erica? Why any of us?"

"I don't know." She answered, quickly moving a hand onto her alpha's shoulder before giving it a gentle squeeze, trying to usher as much comfort into Scott as she could.

Scott made a quarter turn, facing the brunette. He moved a hand through her long, wavy tresses. "I don't want anything to happen to you." He stated, his voice low, almost a whisper.

She shook her head, her locks flowing with the movement. "It won't." She promised. "Not with you around." Olivia added.

Scott leaned in, placing his lips upon hers in a tender and loving kiss. His body sparked with a small fire from the contact, something that warmed his sorrow and helped him push his worry away. Olivia returned the kiss, melting into his touch when one of his hands fell upon her cheek.

* * *

Strolling into the bar, Dean took a plop down at one of the stools. "A beer, please." He ordered.

The scruffy dark haired male fulfilled the order, placing the beer down in front of the hunter. It was only two o'clock, but some people came in as early as noon to start drinking. The bartender wished he could have his own beer; it had been too long of a day and he wanted it to come to an end. It didn't take long for a few more people to spill in, the bartender walking over to take their orders.

A few hours had passed and the lonely hunter still sat upon the stool, ordering beer after beer. Finally the dark haired male asked, "What's got you so down?"

"Work. I had one hell of a night last night."

"Me too," The other male shot back.

Dean didn't say another word, he just brought the beer to his lips and took a big swig. The wolves were getting away and the pack they'd run into was most likely the pack responsible for killing other wolves. Dean was almost certain of it, even though Chris had said there were two packs in Beacon Hills. He groaned lowly, polishing off another beer before he handed the empty bottle to the bartender.

"You're off the clock." The bartender's boss stated.

 _Finally._

After hearing the words, he took his own seat at the bar, next to Dean. He ordered himself a scotch on the rocks, needing a drink himself after the rough morning he'd had. "I haven't seen you around town before."

"I'm just passing through." Dean replied.

"Oh, really?" Curiously, the other male eyed Dean up and down. "What's your name?"

"Dean. You?"

"Derek."

"You like this gig?" Dean motioned towards the bar top.

"Not always." Derek answered vaguely. He took another sip of his scotch.

Silence fell upon the two men.

Hours passed like minutes, the two men mostly silent as they drank away their pain and worries. Both rose from their stools around the same time, heading towards the exit. Derek held the door open for Dean, nodding his head towards the hunter. "Nice meeting you."

"You too." Dean responded almost dryly. He really didn't have time for all the pleasantries.

Before Dean could get very far, Derek walked right behind him and spun him around, pinning him against the brick wall. His face neared Dean's, his green eyes flared with excitement as he watched Dean's expression change to that of confusion. Leaning in, Derek kissed Dean slowly, the hunter stunned by the kiss.

Pushing Derek away, Dean eyed him sternly. "What the hell?"

Before Derek could respond, Dean kissed him back, returning the kiss with an intense heat. He moved Derek away from the brick wall, spinning the alpha and then pinning him to the wall. Both males fought for dominance as they kissed but Dean finally settled once Derek kissed him more passionately.

"Let's go back to my place." Derek suggested while he took a moment to breath, parting his lips from Dean's.

Dean simply nodded his head before he kissed Derek harder.

* * *

"Dean, it's me. I don't think the Argents were there last night. I think we have another hunter on our hands. Call me back." Sam shut the flip phone to a close, tossing it on the motel bed. Something didn't add up. A warlock helping a werewolf pack? The arrows being perfectly centered? When they first met Chris, his shots had completely missed the werewolves, his aim and his friend's aim way off target. Sam's eyebrows knitted together as he hoped his brother would respond as soon as possible.

* * *

Listening to the radio scanner on his smartphone, Stiles kept hoping it wasn't really Erica who was dead out there in the woods. He kept a close ear on the station in which his father's deputies spoke on. Once it was confirmed, tears stung his eyes and he rapidly blinked them away. It was Erica. He didn't know what to say or do but allow the guilt that stung in his gut to swallow him whole. Climbing down the staircase of the McCall home, his eyes fell to the floor. His voice was quieter than usual, almost out of character for Stiles, "It's her." He confirmed. "They just said so on the police scanner." The brunette let the others know.

Jackson rose from his seat in the family room. "Then we need to find the ones responsible and send a warning."

"Like what?" Scott asked. "What kind of warning?"

"Someone's head on a platter is an idea." Isaac told Scott, anger spit like venom in his words.

"Killing isn't the answer." Scott retorted.

"Then when is it?"

"When our lives are at stake! For now, we need to remain cautious and find out who did this."


	12. Chapter 12

"We need to talk." Dean's voice was gruff and serious as he peered down at Chris Argent, the male sitting atop a bar stool.

"Yes, we do."

"Why were you out there last night? I thought we were taking the cellar to the east and you and your guys were taking the south?" Dean was abrupt, not beating around the bush.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Chris looked from Dean to Sam. "We weren't out there." He responded, truthful.

Dean passed over his bag; the arrows he'd pulled from the wolf's corpse were inside. "Look inside and tell me that those aren't yours."

Chris looked into the bag, taking a glance at the arrows he let out a long sigh.

"Well?" Dean almost barked.

"Allison."

"What?"

"She must've figured out where we were hunting and followed." Chris rose from the bar stool.

"So she knows now?" Sam wondered.

"Her aunt told her. I'm sure this also helped her out." Chris withdrew John's journal from his jacket and slammed it onto the bar top.

"How'd you get this?" Sam asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Allison." Chris repeated. "She confronted me with it."

"So, she must've snuck into our motel room." Dean concluded, taking the journal.

* * *

Lydia tapped her foot rapidly. She leaned against the motel room door, her eyes fixed ahead of herself as she awaited Dean and Sam's arrival. She couldn't wait any longer, not after Allison had just killed Erica the previous night. While she waited, the thoughts of the night flooded her mind. Who else was a werewolf in this town? Who else that she knew? She didn't want to think about it but she did. She couldn't stop herself from thinking about it, over and over again as if a replay button was on a constant loop in her head.

As the Impala came to a halt, Dean climbed out of the vehicle. "Great, another block in the road." He motioned towards Lydia to Sam.

Lydia stormed over to her relative, bringing a hand crashing down across his face. Dean's eyes rose a little stunned, his brow crinkling at how hard the blow had actually been. It stung his cheek like hell and he hadn't been expecting it.

"You've been lying to me and my mom, your family for god knows how long?" She looked to both the brothers, disbelief in her green eyes.

Dean grabbed at his cheek. Sam rested his hands upon the top of the Impala. "We were protecting you."

"Bullshit." Lydia responded. "You were lying to me."

"You think you can stop any of this? That you're able to take on the supernatural world on your own?" Dean huffed.

"No, I don't. But I can help." Lydia returned, confidently.

"How? You have no training."

"That's where you two come in." She returned. "And don't tell me no. I'll blow your cover in a heartbeat." She threatened, not guilty for it in the slightest.

Dean swallowed thickly. Would she really blow their cover?

"After last night, there are no excuses anymore. " She couldn't believe it. "Allison killed one of our friends. We can't be left in the dark any longer."

Sam's lips curved into a frown. "Okay." He agreed finally. "We'll teach you."

Dean looked at his brother, bewildered. "You're going to agree with helping her?"

"I can hear you." Lydia reminded Dean.

"We can't lie to you anymore." Sam concluded.

Dean simply rolled his eyes. Fishing for the journal in his jacket, he handed it to the redhead. "Knock yourself out."

* * *

Derek and Isaac were stalking through the wooded forest, something they tended to do often; almost too often. "I don't get what this is supposed to help us with." Isaac's voice piped up.

Derek kept a solemn look on his face. "Once we pick up a scent, we follow it. We'll know who did this to her." He was kneeling before the spot where Erica had previously laid. The police had already taken her body but her scent was strong, overwhelming the alpha momentarily. His fingers touched the earth and he said a silent prayer for the blonde werewolf. "Keep looking," He instructed the curly haired male.

Isaac closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He sifted through Erica's scent and picked up a faint smell in the direction towards the cellar Derek had taken him towards. He could smell the faint wolfsbane from the grenades and his eyes snapped open. "In the cellar." Isaac told his alpha.

Derek rose from where he knelt and waved a hand towards Isaac. Both males entered the cellar and Derek noted the signs of a struggle, the glass from the broken grenades. "There was more than one of them here. Most likely a third person killed Erica." He could pick up three different scents. That's when he noted a familiar scent. The male he'd met at the bar; Dean.

He paced out of the cellar and felt sick, as if he were about to vomit. He'd slept with a hunter? A hunter who was responsible for killing Erica?

"Are you okay?" Isaac figured Derek was overwhelmed with the scene.

"I'm fine," He lied. "I think I have a lead." Derek sighed, inhaling deeply. "You track the scent from the outside and I'll track the two who were in the cellar."

"Should I bring Boyd?"

"Yes."

* * *

Night time fell rapidly, as it always seemed to in Beacon Hills. Both pack members were following the scent through the woods. It ultimately brought them back into the city, to a street both of them recognized. They came upon a home, however, they were uncertain of who's home it was. Isaac climbed the side of the building, crouching on the rooftop towards a vacant window. Boyd followed and both wolves silently slipped into the home.

They began rummaging through personal belongings, and Boyd flipped through a book that sat upon a small desk. A picture fell out and he lifted it up, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the curly haired brunette. "You should see this." He told his pack member and friend.

Isaac crossed the room and peered at the picture. "Allison?" Had she really been the one to kill Erica?

Suddenly, a series of footsteps climbing towards the bedroom sounded and the two males rushed out the window, climbing back atop the roof before leaping down the building and taking off running. Isaac's body fueled by a fire, an intense feeling igniting his bones. He was enraged at the discovery. How could one of their classmate's kill Erica? How could this have happened?

* * *

"Allison did it." Isaac told the others who occupied the loft.

"Allison?" Jackson questioned, a laugh spilling from his lips. "There's no way."

"It was her." Boyd confirmed.

"Then we find her and question her." Derek concluded, his emerald hues boring into the picture of Allison with a blonde woman. "I think I've found the other hunters, too." He let the others know.

"Who are they?"

"I need to investigate further." Derek told Scott.

"Okay. We'll watch Allison at school."

* * *

Slurping through his straw, Stiles polished off the juice box. He and Scott were in the courtyard at the college, eating their lunch together. Stiles had a lot of questions racing through his mind; why did Lydia really ask for that bat? Did she know about Allison and the hunters? What did Allison know exactly? Were they aware that they had killed Erica? Why were they there that night? He breathed out a sigh, his chestnut hues peering at the ground.

Jackson walked up and plucked the juice box from Stiles. He crushed it in his hands.

"Hey!"

"It's annoying to hear you slurping all the way across the campus." He tossed the crushed box into Stiles' lap.

Stiles made a face, mouthing what Jackson said, mocking him.

The muscular male took a seat next to Scott.

"Have you seen Allison yet?"

"No. She hasn't showed up today which is odd for her."

"Lydia too." Stiles piped up.

"What do you mean Lydia?" Jackson asked, his face perplexed.

"She asked for my bat on the same night Allison was in the woods. Coincidence? Probably not. They are best friends after all." Stiles explained.

Jackson huffed. "Just because they're best friends doesn't mean Lydia knows too."

Stiles and Scott looked at each other and then back to Jackson. "She knows." They both said in unison. They were best friends too and best friends shared everything. They had to suspect that Lydia was aware of the wolfy problem in Beacon Hills.

"You two are so lame sometimes." Jackson told them before rising from where he sat. He was getting ready to leave before he caught a glimmer of chocolate hair in the corner of his eye. It was Allison.

"What'd they say?" Allison asked Lydia, her voice hushed.

"I told them I'd reveal their secret unless they trained me." Lydia responded, pulling out the Winchester journal from her bag. "And they gave me this to look over. I've been doing some research and it isn't just werewolves that exist. There's vampires, ghosts, demons, angels, shapeshifters, literally almost anything under the sun that we thought was a myth isn't." The redhead explained, her own voice low. Little did they know that there were two werewolves eavesdropping on their conversation.

Jackson looked stunned but his face instantly turned to that of amusement, a grin plastered across his lips. "Looks like she does know."

"What are they saying?" Stiles wondered, whispering to Scott.

"Shh." Scott kept his eyes firmly on the pair.

"Come on," Stiles mouthed.

"What about Erica? Does anybody know about what really happened to her?" Lydia asked.

"I don't think so." Allison returned, looking to the ground. Guilt washed over her entire form once again. She blinked away heavy tears that swelled in her eyes. "We should just keep it between us. Who knows what else is lurking behind every corner of the school?"


	13. Chapter 13

During science class, Olivia kept an eager eye on Allison. She sat across the room but her ears and eyes kept a dangerously intense watch on the brunette. She listened as Allison shifted uncomfortably many times, she watched perspiration glide down the side of Allison's face. Her ears perked up when she heard Allison rise up from her seat during the middle of the lecture and chestnut hues followed as Allison exited the classroom. Obviously Allison was nervous and tense and if Olivia had to guess why she would have said it was because of Erica's death. A sigh escaped the brunette's lips and she turned her focus back to the professor and his discussion. She'd text Scott the minute the class was over to give him a heads up.

* * *

Elijah laid splayed out on the sofa in Derek's loft. He had fallen asleep rather late the previous night as his head swirled with thoughts as to how he'd gotten wound up in everything. Naturally, he wanted to help his friend Olivia but at the same time, it was a whole lot to take in. The warlock shifted on the sofa, turning away from the large window where the sun was shining through, spilling rays across Elijah's entire form. He groaned quietly, his eyes still snapped tightly shut. He needed more sleep but the sun was threatening to finally wake him up.

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon. You need to wake up." Derek's gruff voice filled the loft from where he sat on the island in the kitchen. "I brought you some lunch."

Elijah sat up on the couch, wiping the sleep from one of his eyes. He yawned, still groggy. "Yeah?"

"You like hamburgers?"

"Sure," Elijah rose from the couch and walked across the loft to join Derek at the island. Once Derek passed him the brown bag, Elijah pulled the hamburger out and undid the wrapper.

"I've been thinking." Derek began, chewing around his own burger. "There's got to be a way we can track the hunters down. Isn't there some sort of locator spell you could possibly do?"

The warlock shook his head. "That's far more advanced than anything I can do. My 'rents could probably pull it off but I sure as hell couldn't."

Derek huffed. "Figures."

"Hey, I'm the one who saved your ass, didn't I? I think I deserve a little more credit than that." Elijah stated.

"You didn't save or help Erica though, did you?" Derek was pinning part of the blame on Elijah. He polished off his burger and rose from his stool before he tossed the wrapper in the garbage can. "I got to get to work. I'll trail one of the hunters if they show up at the bar."

"How do you know who one of the hunters is?"

"Just a guess." Derek lied.

* * *

Sam had taken Lydia to the gym while Dean wound up doing more leg work around town, trying to pinpoint any other werewolf hideouts. Lydia pulled her hair into a tight ponytail before climbing into the wrestling ring across from Sam. She pulled a pair of crimson boxing gloves on while Sam put on some sapphire hand pads. The redhead walked towards the middle of the ring, shrugging her shoulders softly. "What now?"

The tall brunette planted his feet on the ring. "Plant your feet, just like this." He instructed.

Lydia did as told, mimicking Sam's position, eyeing his posture and positioning herself in the same manner. Their height difference would keep Sam at an advantage but Lydia wasn't worried. "Okay," She nodded her head a fraction.

Sam moved his hands into a position where Lydia would be able to hit them easily. "Go ahead. Take a swing."

Lydia pressed her lips into a thin line and held her fists in a position she'd remembered seeing boxers standing in. With one swift movement, she lunged a fist forwards and punched at one of the targets on Sam's hands.

"Another time." Sam told her. She did as told and the brunette nodded his head. "Again."

* * *

Before entering the bar to get to work, a familiar voice caught Derek's attention. _Dean._ Rounding the corner of the building, he pressed his back firmly against the brick wall of the establishment. Honing in on the other male's voice, he was able to decipher what Dean was saying against all the other chatter in the bar.

"Look, Sammy, you really think Lydia can hold her own against all these wolves running rampant in this town?"

"She has a lot of determination. I'm not saying to put her on the front lines but she needs to protect herself," Sam explained briefly, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Dean took a drink of his bourbon. "Well excuse me for wanting to keep her safe."

"Don't you think the best way to keep her safe is to teach her? To tell her the truth?"

"She already knows the truth." Dean reminded his younger brother.

Sighing heavily, Sam brought a hand to his face, smoothing it down his features, eyebrows knitting together. "We need to find out what Lydia and Allison know. We need answers."

Derek's suspicions were right. Dean was one of _them_. Swallowing hard, a dry lump had lodged itself into his throat. Now it was going to be a war; not just against the Argent's. Two new players were in town and Derek wasn't sure if they had caught onto him just yet.

"Should we tell her mother?" Sam questioned.

"No." Dean responded. "Nobody else should know about this. We don't need to endanger anyone else or inconvenience them. Let's just finish the job we started and get the hell out of here."

* * *

Rifling through a duffel bag, the Alpha was determined to train his pack. He pulled out a handgun and a bullet before loading it into the chamber.

"What's that for?" Isaac asked, confusion swirling among his face.

"This." Derek then shot off the gun in the other wolf's direction.

Isaac's ears caught the sound of Derek's finger pulling the trigger and instantly, he hit the ground, eyes widened. "What the hell, Derek?"

"You have to be fast enough." Derek stated, voice cold and collected.

Stiles stood aghast, mouth gaped open in a circle. "So, you want to train your pack by killing them?!"

"Nobody asked you to tag along." Derek retorted, sage orbs flitting over to the annoying male.

"No, but I'm supposed to be a part of this too. So, instead of trying to shoot Isaac, maybe we should be talking strategy."

"There is no strategy in war, Stiles." Derek crossed the space, standing right before the younger male, eyes burning with a fire behind them.

Stiles' eyes watched Derek's intensely. "You said it was the Argent's, right? So if we find out their strategy, yeah, we can make our own."

"Shut up." Derek huffed, grasping onto the collar of Stiles' shirt and tugging him closer to himself. "Don't waste my time." He growled, spinning to Isaac who had risen from the earth and wiped off his attire. "Faster, Isaac."

* * *

The day flew by and as Derek trained Isaac, the younger wolf grew tired. "Why isn't Boyd with us?"

"He's trailing Allison."

"So, I get the hard work and he gets the easy shit."

"Don't you start." Derek warned.

"Come on, you've been at it for hours." Stiles whined almost. "Give Isaac a break."

Derek peered at Stiles in silence before he shrugged his shoulders with a roll. "Fine. Go back to the loft. I'll meet you there."

Dusk had fallen upon Beacon Hills rather quickly. The sunny sky turning rich in purple and orange as the sun was setting upon the horizon. Derek was collecting his things, placing his weapons and tools into the duffel bag as Stiles and Isaac made their walk back to the Jeep. Spinning around to follow them, Derek was met with a gun in his face, an angry hunter wielding it too close for comfort.

 _Dean._

"It isn't that hard to find a werewolf's training grounds." Dean remarked, huffing a scoff.

"Get the hell out of my way." Derek demanded, eyes on the barrel of the gun before they rose to meet Dean's intense gaze.

Cocking the gun, Dean aimed it right at Derek's chest before pulling the trigger. He watched as Derek darted away and he began shooting off more rounds.

"I came to this town for a reason." Dean told him, chasing after the now injured wolf. "You sons of bitches are out there killing your own kind. You couldn't leave the innocents alone, could you?"

Derek's breathing was becoming ragged from the pain coursing throughout his body.

The shots had alerted Isaac. "Derek's in trouble." He informed Stiles.

Derek ran into the clearing where the other two males sat in the Jeep. "Go!" He demanded.

Without hesitation the Jeep came to life and Stiles shook his head. "We don't leave without you."

Another round shot off, aimed right at the Jeep.

"Go!" Derek yelled, sinking to the ground in pain, duffel bag falling with him.

Pressing on the gas, the Jeep's wheels spun, screeching as Stiles sped off.

"What are you doing?!" Isaac yelled, eyes widened. "I could have taken them!"

"No, you really couldn't." Stiles shook his head.

As Dean paced over to the werewolf, he looked down upon Derek, disgusted. "I got you now."

"Actually, you don't." Elijah stepped into the clearing, raising a hand to Dean.

Suddenly, a shooting pain shot right through Dean's head, disabling the hunter as he dropped his handgun to the earths floor. He slumped to his knees in pain, eyes squinted shut tightly. "Ahh!"

Elijah ran over to collect Derek, helping him onto his feet. "I figured out one of those locator spells."


End file.
